Understand My Sickness
by Rufescent
Summary: Alternate Universe. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians. [Slow updates.]
1. A Good Feeling

**Disclaimer** : I don't own.

 **Summary** : AU. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians.

 **Note** : The summary and idea is from fellow fanfiction author EmmaKSkywalker.

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" _I'll never understand my sickness._ Save yourself _, from a life full of lies and a heart full of pain and sorrow."_

My Darkest Days: "Save Yourself"

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He should have been raging, hissing and spitting with hate at the treatment. Another shock ripped across his skin, leaving tingling pricks, and Anakin felt his back arch involuntarily but he did not cry out. It hurt, almost enough for him to reach hesitant fingers towards the cool blackness already brushing against him with feather-soft fingers. The watery gentleness sung to him like a siren's call, enticingly flirty.

He remained impassive, fisting his hands and avoiding the beckoning darkness as his blue eyes flashed defiantly. He had made a promise. Anakin Skywalker relaxed against the magnetic cuffs and allowed his feelings to drip down his skin as its own type of cold comfort.

"Why will you not give in to your anger? Your hatred?" Dooku asked curiously, his severe face leaning closer to the boy. When the brat only stared back with vacant eyes, the Count smiled disdainfully and began circling him. Anakin tried to twist against his cuffs, craning his neck so he could track the Sith Lord. Dooku stopped behind him, facing the boy's back and successfully staying out of his sight.

Anakin Skywalker was enigma to the Sith Lord. After training him in the ways of the Force for four years, the urchin still refused to accept the Dark Side. He used it in brief lapses, of course, but never fully to the extent that it would darken his soul and embolden his power. Count Dooku honestly could not understand _how_ Skywalker was of any use to them; _why_ his Master was so set on keeping him under his wing. The child was powerful in the Force but still untrained and inexperienced. Easy enough to rectify, if only the boy would actually put forth any effort.

At first, the Count wondered if he was using the wrong motivation. The slave boy would undoubtedly desire freedom, having been denied the right for his entire life. Apparently not. Skywalker seemed to care little for freedom. Oh, he had tried many times to run away but to no avail. Dooku had been forced to continuously explain that his freedom was contingent on pledging himself to the ways of the Sith, hoping that the offer would seem easy enough and then the Count could _finally_ continue doing more important things with his time instead of watching a dim-witted child. Even lightening did little to solve the behavior. The brat seemed to have found a way to phase out most of the pain, a habit most likely picked up during his gritty childhood.

The Count pressed his hand between the boy's shoulder blades and took immense pleasure at the sharp intake of breath and squirm of discomfort. So the wounds were still open. Good.

This time Anakin cried out when the lightening zapped over his body, travelling across his flesh in branch-like flashes. Both could smell the burnt hair and skin, and Anakin choked a little as he convulsed.

He was glad he would soon be rid of the brat. His patience had come to an end after the most recent escape attempt and continuous refusals to even _consider_ using his bottled rage. Dooku could feel through the Force the immense ocean of hate lapping at Skywalker from a deep well of thick, syrupy bitterness that should have already drowned him whole. Yet the Tatooine slave held his face above the depths by just a miniscule margin, still breathing.

"Why?" Dooku asked again to Skywalker's back.

Just as he expected, no answer came except the grunts and hisses of pain. Dooku sneered, pulling his hands into the folds of his cloak as he glided out of the red-carved cell. He turned his face only slightly, so the boy could see his shadowed profile as he paused by the door. "You no longer have any use to me. There will be no more chances."

And then Anakin was alone in the dim cell, his head bowed and body twitching from the after-effects of the electricity. His tight-lipped smile heavy with sinister emotions was only meant for the dusty hematite walls.

* * *

…o0o…

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Anakin was slapped awake by an armored Geonosian. He had barely blinked the sleep out of his eyes before the containment field holding him in place was suddenly released. Anakin steadied himself quickly before he could tumble face-first into the dirt. Two Geonosians flanked him, and the third pushed its blaster against the small of his back. They clucked unpleasantly at him, and Anakin scrunched up his nose, glad he couldn't understand the guttural language.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, stumbling from a forceful push. Ducking his head, his eyes flicked around from underneath his blond fringe as he took in the deep taverns and crevices as the group headed… wherever they were going. Probably to Dooku. Anakin surreptitiously pulled at his Force-inhibitor binders, wondering if he could take the armed, winged bugs in a purely physical fight. Probably the two, he decided, but he wouldn't be fast enough for the third blaster-ready Geonosian. He wasn't that desperate. Yet.

Anakin slowed down a little, hoping to catch glimpses into some caved cells in the opposite hallway. Unfortunately, his guards didn't let him, and he was pulled forward before he could see anything. Scowling, Anakin considered just darting inside a tunnel to get away before dismissing it only a millisecond later. Geonosians normally _lived_ inside those holes so he certainly wouldn't get far at all.

As Anakin continued his trek with the three hovering insectoids, he carefully tuned out their chatter since it was providing no useful information. He tried to focus on the Force, but it was left to mostly just flutter around him, present but frustratingly unavailable. Oddly, he could still sense some faint twinges of enjoyment. For him to be able to access the cosmic power with the cuffs on must either mean there were mass feelings of happiness in a concentrated setting or one person was powerful enough to broadcast its feelings that loudly. Of course, Anakin could also just be better than the inhibitors, but since he had already failed fourteen times in running away, he knew his skill was far from phenomenal. Why the excitement, then?

Within the next few moments, the teenager understood where he was headed. The Petranaki arena. As the air cooled the further downward they went, Anakin chewed on his lower lip, eyes darting left and right. Only four years of training with the Force wasn't enough for him to be prepared to take on the fanged non-sentient beings that the Geonosians smuggled on planet. He could maybe ( _hopefully_ ) take on a Reek and live, but an Acklay?

 _Well, kriff_. Anakin tried to settle the heavy dread in his gut as the group arrived in a small squared cave with an arched opening into the arena. _Chuba_.

May the Force be with me, Anakin thought sardonically, trying to use the Jedi phrase ironically but instead coming off more genuine than he would care to admit. _Kriff,_ he added for good measure.

He was manhandled forward and into a hovering wagon before it moved into the bright sunlight that reflected off the red rocks. Anakin squinted against the light, trying to find strategic places he could flee so he wouldn't die. There were none, of course, considering it was an open arena meant for gladiator fights. If this was Dooku's plan of getting him to use the Dark Side, it wasn't going to work. The acidic blackness already clung to his skin like karking _sand_ , but it hadn't gotten his soul yet and wouldn't _ever_ if he had anything to say about it.

As his wagon slowed near the closest pillar, Anakin realized he wasn't as alone as he had thought. There were two Humans tied in the far end spires, with an empty one standing between him and the girl dressed in dirtied white. He ignored the curious hum of familiarity towards the strangers, turning his head to glare into the stadium stands and then the general direction where he hoped Dooku was watching. The Geonosians were cheering loudly, their leader clucking at them about something from the balcony, and Anakin braced himself for the opening drums, paying no heed to the surprise he could _finally_ feel from the two other fighters.

The Force being with him again was a great feeling. Anakin just hoped he could stay alive to still be able to use it.

Metal screeched as the gates were lifted, and Anakin felt all his false bravado deflate as an Acklay clunked into the open after the quadruped Reek. He must have made an embarrassing squeak because the Human male turned to face him directly, radiating a strange mixture of disbelief, skepticism, and concern. The latter was probably because Anakin was sure his face was bleached white. At least the girl seemed like she was going to have a fighting chance, already twisting out of her handcuffs to climb up her own pillar.

She had a good idea. Anakin tugged experimentally at his chains, breathing through his nose as he watched the Nexu bound out with a high-pitched purr, leaping and killing one of the Geonosian handlers.

 _Kriff_ , he repeated.

"Just relax," the man told him, only a hint of anxiety coloring the practically cool tone. He glanced over for a brief second before he faced the Acklay tottering forward. The Jedi (Anakin was sure of it now, trusting his senses) advised, "Concentrate."

Anakin grimaced. Easier said than done. He shifted, pulling at the chains again almost desperately. At least, he consoled himself selfishly, the Acklay seemed to like the Human Jedi and not him. Maybe the Force was on his side today.

The drums quickened and then there was no time for thought. Anakin could only vaguely hear the Acklay stabbing at the Jedi's pillar with its claw-like legs. He distantly hoped the man lived. The Reek was now the sole focus of the teen's attention and he made himself relax enough to look at the situation with a moderately (barely) clear head.

The beast was lumbering forward, its heavy body making deep indents in the sand. Anakin held his breath as it got closer, ready. Just when it was about to ram into his pillar, he pushed himself up into a fast back flip, landing around the Reek's neck as his boots pushed against the two large cheek horns. Yes! Safely out of the sand and not crushed to death yet.

He risked a hateful, blue-eyed glance into the display chamber where he could feel the Count was observing. He quickly looked away, though, when he felt eyes on the back of his head. The Jedi spared him a look full of something he couldn't discern before the Acklay tried another piercing claw and the man was forced to deftly roll under and around the fast stabs.

An anguished cry from the girl tore Anakin's attention in the other direction, over to the closer pillar. He patted the side of the Reek, trying to calm it despite understanding that this kind of aggression was almost impossible to help. He tossed his chains around the dinosaur's neck like a make-shift harness and continued trying to persuade it to go towards the long-tailed Nexu and girl. The Reek apparently did not agree, trying to shake him off as it ran as fast as it could with its heavy weight _in the other direction_ before smartly stopping abruptly. Anakin grunted at the momentum, but remained firmly on its back. _Nice try_.

Over his heart-beat, he could hear a rumbling shake and, panicking, he watched as the Acklay threw itself against an execution pillar. The rock crumbled and broke at the ends, falling loudly against the sand with a small quake.

 _That Jedi is kriffing amazing_. Anakin stared in unbidden awe as the dusty reddish-brown hair poked up from behind the now-horizontal spire. Dooku probably wouldn't have been able to last this long against an Acklay, he thought smugly with some bizarre sense of pride.

The Reek under him jerked again and the teenager tried to regain his breath. Surveying his surroundings and the state of the other two Humans, Anakin quickly did the math. Save the girl. Then save the Jedi. Ask them for a ride off of here before Dooku can change his mind or try to kill him personally. And then? Well. He'd think about that later.

Kicking at one of the cheek horns as he pulled the chain harness, Anakin successfully (yes!) directed the Reek towards the bright girl and circling Nexu. The Geonosian handlers really didn't like him on the natural-herbivore, following him and his stomping Reek. _Well too bad_.

Anakin allowed himself a congratulatory grin as the Reek thundered into the four-eyed Nexu with all the force it had, grunting. The teenager angled his face upward, straining against the dimming sunlight. He called, "Jump!"

The girl's face twisted a little and he clearly read the mistrust in the way her eyes pinched and mouth flattened. But quite quickly she seemed to understand her situation and was already in the air before he could open his mouth again. Anakin hurriedly used the Force to soften her landing so she wouldn't completely disable herself at the impact. He felt her wrap her arms around his waist, pressing against him, and Anakin hoped she didn't hear his hiss of old pain over the cheers and growls of battle.

"There's Obi-Wan!" she told him and he followed her fingers to the Jedi still facing off against the Acklay. Cracking the chain, he forced the Reek along.

The girl shouted for him and the Jedi must have heard because he turned on his heel and sped over to them. Anakin got a good two-seconds to see the Jedi up-close before he directed his attention back to the arena. Yanking at the chains, he tried to guide the Reek to the side-lines. Hopefully that would give them a better advantage and maybe they could steal one of the metal weapons he had briefly seen leaning near one of the gates.

"Stop!" the Jedi commanded and Anakin obeyed, pulling at the reins just as seven droids rolled in to surround them, opening and loading their weapons.

Anakin was struck with a bottomless realization of _unfairness_. He cursed Dooku with all the worst kind of Huttese words he knew and then some. He had been _so_ _close_.

As one droideka moved closer and the Reek shuffled back, Anakin considered the suicidal attempt of just rolling off the dinosaur and hoping he was fast enough to outrun the laser fire. This had been the closest he had been to freedom, and it was pathetic enough that he hadn't even gotten confirmation that the two would help him off this dusty planet if they had lived.

"Don't do anything rash," the Jedi cautioned. Anakin twisted in his seat, trying to get a good look at the man but a sudden series of _snap-hisses_ widened his eyes and he jerked back to stare at the colorful sabers thrumming in the stands.

Jedi reinforcements? Thank the Force. Anakin sagged a little and then hastily straightened again when the girl grunted in surprise. He tried to send her a sheepish smile and was victorious if her gentle, understanding gaze meant anything. Automatically his eyes fell to the Jedi, who was also looking at him with narrowed, blue-green eyes. Uncomfortable, Anakin turned back to stare into the crowd of fleeing Geonosians.

"Take the Reek forward," the Jedi said. Anakin nodded, tightening his hold and directing the beast ahead. As it stomped along towards the charging Jedi, Anakin pulled it to a stop half-way. A Human Jedi tossed his compatriot the hilt of a lightsaber and only chanced a brief distrustful look at Anakin before he continued to charge the battle droids.

Repressing the feelings that he was evildirtyimpuretainted Anakin offered to cut the man's chains and then just decided he was tired of seeing the suspicious looks and plucked the saber from his surprised, loose hands. The chains dropped to the sand, burnt. He was apparently too slow in handing the lightsaber back because the Jedi snatched it away with unneeded force accompanied with a sharp glare.

Fine. Anakin huffed and slid off the calmed Reek with a glare of his own.

As the Reek groaned in displeasure and shook the remaining passengers off, Anakin increasingly felt out of place as the girl fired off her blaster (when did she acquire that?) and the Jedi swung his blue lightsaber in fanciful arcs to redirect the enemy fire and cut down droids. Anakin _almost_ wished he had his own saber with him, but the maroon-red would certainly not have helped anyone.

Hesitating, Anakin shuffled his feet as his glanced around at the fighting. It took him three seconds before deciding that he was going to hide until the battle finished and hope to all of Tatooine's dead gods that the Jedi would win and accept his plea for a ride. As he ducked under the blaster fire, he listed the facts of his plan because no way was he going to let one of his notoriously bad decisions muck up his closest bid for freedom.

One, he was not ready to face Dooku, and the Sith had hopefully fled when the throng of Jedi appeared. Two, the Jedi came here in mass, so they must have available transport for one more body. Hmm, maybe he could just steal a ship? No. Best to not tick off the Light users when they already hated him and had the power to do something about it.

Anakin shuffled inside the square holding area similar to the one where he got onto the hovercraft. It could have been the same one, for all he knew. The sounds of battle cascaded around him but it was muted enough that he could relax against the wall and simply listen to himself breathe. Dooku's Force signature tingled against his awareness and he cursed, his eyes still closed. That meant the man was still nearby. How much pleasure could watching a battle really be? What a maniac.

He slid down the rock wall. It was hard to dismiss the desire to fight, but it was the right decision. The adrenalin was starting to wear off, and Anakin didn't know the Jedi enough to know how to fight alongside them, especially if they refused to trust him.

A few moments passed with the battle still raging outside. Dooku sure was taking his time to leave. Force! Maybe Anakin should actually try to steal an aircraft; he did not have the patience for this. Just as he pulled himself up, the heavy sound of droid artillery echoed in the arena. Anakin sucked in hot air and threw himself in the open archway, staring. Super battle droids were marching around the corralled Jedi. Nononono.

Dooku's snobby voice sounded around the arena, and Anakin allowed himself a growl of rage since he was not being manipulated into joining the Dark Side at the moment (and why couldn't that be a _never_?).

"Surrender, and your lives will be spared," the Sith finished magnanimously.

The Jedi viciously refused and Anakin felt fear pool in his stomach. He should do something since he wasn't inside the circle. What? What could he do?

There was a tense standoff. Anticipation and danger sizzled hotly in the Force. It felt like it was actually burning him, singeing his clothes and skin like Sith lightening.

"Look!" the bright girl in white said, her face tilted upward.

Anakin's first thought was that it was a futile, last-ditch attempt to distract the Sith and droids. Then his second thought became nonexistent as he stared at the ships of reinforcement arriving, the rumbling of engines enough to provide evidence to the girl's claim.

As the Jedi (and girl) headed into the lowered assault carriers, Anakin started hyperventilating, wishing he had more time but knowing this was going to be his only way off Geonosis. No way was he going to be alone with the mass droids and Dooku!

Stumbling back into the sand, Anakin weaved around marching battle droid and heavy blaster fire until he practically landed on top of the one dark-skinned Jedi (he was the one who refused Dooku?) in his haste.

"Hey, Hi," he babbled, speedily helping the Human up and missing the incredulous expression on his face. "So, um, I need a ride. Please, _please_ help me. I can pay you back, I swear."

So that might have been a stretched truth, but he could pay them back _in time_. Just, not immediately since he had no money.

Anakin had managed to tighten his shields when he had hid away from battle and hoped that the trickles of leaking darkness would be easily enough dismissed. During the battle he had been too preoccupied to bother with shielding, as it still took up a lot of his concentration. He just hoped it would be enough to get off this planet and away from Dooku.

The Jedi looked like he was about to refuse, though his face was still open in surprise. _Who the kriff are you?_ Anakin unnecessarily translated in his head as waited for his last hope to die a horrible death. He should have tried to convince the red-headed Jedi or the girl instead even though that carrier was farther away.

"Allow the boy passage, we will."

Anakin fastened his eyes onto a short, green being with wispy white hair and large eyes. Nodding his head in pure thanks, he hurried into the carrier and shoved himself in a corner so he wouldn't get in the white-armored men's way. Almost out of the woods, but not yet, he told himself.

"If Dooku escapes, rally more systems to his cause, he will," the green Jedi emphasized with a significant look as soon as they were in the air. When red blaster fire hissed around the ship, the Jedi ignited their sabers and swung against the attack.

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose, curling himself up into a smaller ball. How much safer was he on a military carrier vessel than just attempting to walk to one of their ships? No going back now, he supposed. Anakin forced the continuing sounds of battle out his awareness, trying to relax and maintain his tentative shielding.

As the carrier landed, the dark-skinned Jedi snagged Anakin's arm with a tight grip and dragged him off the ship.

"I'm going to walk…" he had interrupted whatever the Human was going to say, paused, and then glanced behind him. Nodding, Anakin continued more confidently, "Back there towards your ships."

He turned quickly, pulling out of the hold, so the Jedi wouldn't have time to stop him before his attention had to be focused on the battle. The green Jedi had already asked to be taken elsewhere, and so Anakin nodded once more to himself and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the fire, explosions, and swinging lightsabers.

He used the Force to guide his steps to safety. Soon enough he would be far away from the dust of Geonosis and the crazy, manipulative Sith Lords.

 _I have a good feeling about this._

 _._

 _tbc_

 _._

 **Quick Notes - in the order of this chapter** :

(1) Anakin really is powerful in the Force. I think the inhibitor cuffs on any other Force-sensitive would block out even the mass feelings of euphoria, but not for him since, yeh know, he was created by the Force itself.

(2) Anakin does not get dragged through the sand, like in the movie. (Sorry if ya'll wanted that.) For some reason, I think this not-Sith!Ani would have been far more desperate to hold onto his moderately safe perch.

(3) I don't know if Anakin used the Force in canon to soften Padmé's jump, but I'm assuming he did because _ouch_ , her crotch would hurt if she kept that momentum at impact. He must have. There is no other way.

(4) Anakin is going to be terribly anti-social and lacking any know-hows of how to talk to people. So basically exactly as he was in canon whenever he flirted with Padmé. Such a dork.

(5) I'm actually really disappointed I didn't get to chop off Ani's arm. He got his mechanical hand in such an honorable manner, and it just seemed so useful (and packed full of symbolism, that too). I get that it was definitely a traumatic incident that probably scarred him more than the movies ever showed, but I just think it's pretty cool. Unfortunately (for me, not Anakin), in this AU he still has both flesh arms. (So far…)

.

So this is my test chapter to see if I should continue it into a full-blown multi-chapter story. If I get enough interest, I'll hopefully continue writing. (I'll probably still continue it even if people hate this, because I love _Star Wars_ AUs and there should be mooooore.) I have not written out the next chapter, but I do have an idea of what I want; so in translation: the next update will _not_ be soon.

Anyway! Please review! Shall I continue? Is it too boring? Excited to see what the differences will be in this new universe? Let me know in that cute little box down there. Thanks for reading thus far!


	2. Welcome to Coruscant

**Summary** : AU. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians.

 **Author's Note** : Oh my _gosh_! What… what is this? I am beyond amazed and astounded by everyone's kind words and criticisms. I—just— _what_? THANK YOU! I can't compute. I'm sorry, give me, like, three years to get over this. I had been expecting five reviews or something… certainly not more than forty! I was not expecting all your love!

That being said, I have not been a _Star Wars_ fan for long (I admittedly just watched all seven movies in January of 2016) so I did a bunch of research to respect canon, me being a novice and all. I will continue to work my hardest to describe this (alternate) universe to the best of my ability. So if I fail with something essential due to my ignorance, _please_ let me know. I'm sure I'll need the help in the future, heh.

Thank you all, again! I have an awful fear that I'll disappoint everyone, so I'm sorry for the long waits between chapters. I'm going to have to continuously remind myself that I'm writing for my own pleasure first and foremost, and sharing my ideas with others as a second. Otherwise, I'll defend against the fear by just not writing – and we certainly can't have that. So… enjoy!

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" _You don't believe in space, you don't believe in light. You don't believe that anything is well beyond your might. You walk across the sky, beneath the ocean floor, never going anywhere we've never been before."_

Les Friction: "String Theory"

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Anakin finally managed to muster up the courage to move a little closer to the bright girl, so now he was only standing five meters away. Since he was no longer running for his life, and for the most part felt like he could trust the Jedi's honor to not outright attack him, he had taken to watching the Human girl who had been in the arena with him. For the past few minutes, she had been speedily making conversation with the few Jedi onboard and other important-looking people on holograms.

She looked like an angel to Anakin. It was the only word to accurately describe her shining purity. He was almost afraid to approach her, worried his own watery blackness would contaminate and poison the pale blanket that wrapped around her like a young sun.

So Anakin just stared, wide-eyed and barely blinking.

She had smiled brilliantly at a clown woman and moved to shut down the transmitter. Then, within one second, she had activated another message for another person. This time it was a young Human male who wore a deep frown and was speaking lowly in upset tones.

The teenager bit his lip, shifting his weight between his feet. No one had yet to approach him, so he supposed he wasn't doing anything wrong yet. He was still being watched, though. He could feel the eyes, small pricks in the Force, following every twitch he'd make with a heavy feeling of judgment that uncomfortably pushed against him. But it was certainly better than being on Geonosis or with Dooku, so Anakin would make do here quite happily. Once they landed on Coruscant, he would be gone; only a second-long blip on the Jedi's radar.

The girl finished her discussion and was starting to rise, flicking sand off her white pants absentmindedly. The fast moving crowds of white-armored men and Jedi was thinning out as beings found places they were needed. Soon it was only him, her, and the few liquid entrances and exits of Jedi.

He almost wished the Keepers of the Peace would stay to monitor him in-person rather than through the Force. Seeing a face to go with the unending stares would at least give him something to glare at. He sighed deeply, turning his stare on the ground before lifting it again as the angelic girl stepped towards the round gangway.

Anakin gnawed on his chapped lips, unsure if he should chance a conversation with her. She was shining, but her pleasant song in the Force beckoned him forward.

He remained rooted to the spot, watching her leave and unreasonably feeling a keen numbness at the loss of her unintentional company. He wrapped his arms around his thin waist, feeling cold and tired.

Just as she was about to turn down the hallway of the ship, she stopped and leaned heavily against the frame. Anakin frowned, shuffling a little closer and wondering why she hadn't already disappeared. He watched and waited, anticipating for _something_ to happen.

As more minutes past, he realized a signal was never going to come. She remained an exhausted statue slumped against the smooth, pallid outline of the starship's open door. Her filthy-white outfit stood in stark contrast to the pristine cleanliness of the Republic ship. At least the three slices on her back were only pale stripes rather than the bloody gashes. Anakin internally admired how effective the Republic bacta patches were. The blood-speckled and shredded shirt against the clean and healed skin was a good contrast, he decided as he vacantly scratched at a scab on his forearm and continued to wait.

Anakin licked his dry lips and bit the inside of his cheek, the silence deepening. She likely thought she was alone… maybe he should just let her be? Give her space to collect herself without having to pretend to be okay? He sighed inaudibly, combing a muddy-red hand through his hair.

No one helps each other, she had always told him. No one had helped him, and no one had helped her. Anakin squared his shoulders. He was going to keep his promise.

"Milady?" he called gently as his back straightened in decision, and he moved towards the bright girl's side.

He heard her gasp sharply, twisting to face him with a stony face but glittering eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, rubbing his fingers together nervously as his attention turned towards the present honey-brown eyes that stared back at him, lacking the judgment he expected.

Up-close, Anakin's first thought was an inconsequential realization of just how short she was compared to him.

More importantly, though, he noticed that her blank face did little to hide the unfiltered waves of sadness pouring forth. She looked just as tired as he felt, but far more hollowed. The Republic had taken a massive loss in the fight on Geonosis. The death of many Jedi wept in echoing cries, reverberating as emotions of loss were released into the Force in swirling ribbons. Anakin felt weighted just being so close to the mourners and deaths, but as much as he understood, he was too desensitized to care more than a cursory feeling of 'I'm sorry for your loss.'

She tried a tiny smile for him, and it was weak and broken at the ends. "I'm fine, thank you for asking," she answered politely, regally, her chin raised. He pondered if she was upset about more than just the deaths.

It seemed that once she recognized she was no longer alone, it was her cue to leave. Standing tall, she nodded once and turned her body in preparation to finish her previously-aborted action.

And she'd take the comforting warmth that was her personal sun with her, leaving them both alone and overwhelmed. Unnoticed by either, he reached a hand out, his fingers curling around cold air. Wait, he wanted to say.

Instead he blurted out, "Are you an angel?"

Anakin's entire body froze, stomach twisting, and his face heated up a rosy red. He was _beyond_ mortified. Stars above, that was something he would say if he was _nine_ , and even then that would be a stretch! Anakin hoped the Force couldn't transfer the impressions of audio to the monitoring Jedi, because that would just be too much.

She jerked back to face him in unbelieving astonishment. "What?"

Anakin contemplated if she would still want to be his friend if he turned his back to her and introduced his head to the ship's metal wall. Multiple times.

As she took a bold, curious, step towards him, Anakin cursed himself. He had succeeded with keeping her company, but at the sacrifice of his pride and dignity. He was still feeling the warmth of humiliation, written in blooming ink across his cheeks.

She was looking up at him with big, unguarded eyes.

Anakin glanced at the bright girl and sighed with the thought it would be unfair to her if he dismiss the conversation. So with deep embarrassment, he mumbled as a half-whisper, "An angel."

He refused to go into any more detail than that, though.

She mouthed 'angel' to herself, eyebrows scrunching up. Anakin waited patiently for the condescending laughter. He wouldn't blame her, he certainly deserved it. It sounded like a horrible pick-up line he'd hear in a brothel by some pathetic Hin-Na trying too hard. Teenage years on Tatooine certainly gave him a lot of experience with the needy type of clientele, inside and outside the shop.

After she absorbed what exactly he had asked, her face glowed a pretty pink. It was a small change, a stark comparison to his own still vibrantly scarlet expression, but the color seemed to synchronically smooth out the lines of stress and depression under her eyes. The brown glinted like earthy lightsaber crystals rather than broken glass.

She laughed, as Anakin predicted, but it wasn't weighted with superciliousness. She smiled easily and this time it wasn't fractured. "I've never heard that line before," she revealed with small chuckle. "An angel, you say?"

Anakin stared. She was only proving his earlier assessment. Okay, he could still salvage parts of his dignity. Pulling himself together, Anakin suavely continued, "Unless you have another name you'd like to go by?" There. He'd asked for her name and didn't make it sound completely random or weird.

"Padmé Amidala," she answered fluently, smiling at him and offering a hand.

Anakin grinned and gripped her fingers in a strong shake. Her skin felt smooth against his rough and callused hand. He told her merrily, "Anakin Skywalker."

Padmé (what a beautiful name!) had a nice smile, he found as he stared at her and hoped he wasn't too awkward.

He considered this a good omen for his future—a future away that could _finally_ be parsecs away from the torment of Dooku and the Dark Side. Anakin sobered a little as he thought about what was to come, diverting his eyes from Padmé as he belatedly considered what would likely happen in the next few standard hours. He'd have to find a job quickly on Coruscant for food and shelter and to pay for a ticket off the planet. Plus, he'd have to find a way to pay back the Jedi since he did say he would, and Anakin Skywalker was not going to make himself out to be a _liar_. His mom had taught him better than that.

But he was also not going to stay on Coruscant for long with the Jedi roaming around. He didn't think they were the bane of wrongness in the galaxy as Dooku preached, but he knew they were no saints, either. His shielding would irreversibly slip at some point, and the darkness would scare them just as much as it scared him at times.

Unfortunately, Anakin had forgotten that his shields had already been fully down – during the arena fight. And the Human Jedi present had already notified the Council about the teen's sour signature in the Force with expressed concern.

But since his thoughts cheerfully skipped over a realistic portrayal of his actual reception once they landed on the city planet, the laughter and smiles exchanged with Padmé were untainted by worry.

When Anakin opened his mouth to continue the conversation, a Kel Dorian Jedi walked in and glanced curiously between the two. Anakin and Padmé quieted reflexively. The blond immediately noticed the long, appraising look. Padmé glanced between the Jedi and her companion, perceptive and wondering.

"I apologize for interrupting," the Jedi said calmly, seemingly amused as his covered face turned towards the two Humans. He nodded formally and continued to walk towards the table of holograms. Anakin stared at his back.

Padmé looked around and beckoned him into the hallway. "Shall we find a more comfortable place to talk?"

The room they were in had no seats, just an open expanse of creamy white. The table at the far end was available for inter-stellar and inter-planetary communication. It would have been polite to leave beings to the privacy of their calls. Anakin just wanted to be with Padmé.

He agreed easily and the two made their way around the starship. Anakin stuck to Padmé's side and deftly ignored the physical stares. He mentally retracted his earlier wish—having a face to glare back at didn't make the sticky judgment feel any more bearable. At least Padmé appeared uncaring, leading him down wide hallways with a firm grip on his wrist.

The smooth skin-to-skin contact felt nice. Years under Dooku's tutelage (and his hard life as a slave) limited living touch as a precursor for pain. The field training, the battles, and the punishments that scarred his body in ugly writing represented his only contact with others. It was a nice change to feel warm touch without having to flinch or prepare himself.

Finally, she found a diminutive room sequestered off in the empty end of the ship. There was little sentient traffic, really only droids tottering and wheeling along as they collected and transported healing supplies from the storage hangars. Anakin smiled at Padmé and followed her kind pull toward the small bench covered with white pads resting against the back wall.

As they made themselves comfortable, Anakin could feel himself finally start to relax against the yielding cushions. The feeling reminded him of the Dark Side's song, the comfortable softness that promised not only power but also _escape_. (If he had known to look for the Light, he would have found care and acceptance.) His muscles loosened and the constant awareness of the Force stares lessened into threads of background noise. He leaned heavily against Padmé's side, his exhaustion overtaking him.

"Anakin," Padmé said, concerned. She shifted herself so his head was resting on the softer edge of her shoulder. His eyes were fluttering, trying to stay open but still dropping shut anyway. She rested a hand against his cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," he parroted, smiling impishly in her direction with his eyes closed. He mumbled drowsily through cracked lips, "I just… haven't slept soundly in days."

Padmé sighed lightly, watching as his breathing almost immediately evened out in the fast onset of sleep. She shifted, making herself comfortable with Anakin propped against her. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the silent company of the strange man from Geonosis. She had planned on asking him about why he was in the arena, if and how he was related to the Separatists, and so much more. His appearance in the arena with her and Obi-Wan was unanticipated in the slightest, and the Jedi especially seemed wary of him.

He seemed sweet though, she thought as she opened her eyes to stare down at his tranquil face. She normally had a good read on characters and was rarely prey to the many machinations common in the Senate. And there was something about him that just seemed familiar, for lack of a better word, even though she was sure she had never met him before. It was like she was meant to know him. Certainly she wouldn't have let any stranger use her shoulder as a pillow.

She slumped back against the bench, thinking about the future of Naboo and the Republic involved in a high-scale war, about the Jedi's place in the changing—desperate—times, about the many lives lost on the red, outer-rim planet. The kinder thoughts evaded her.

Soon enough, her own head drooped as the fatigue from the fighting and the stress of an intergalactic war took its toll on her body. Her face rested against Anakin's silky curls, and she breathed in the smell of Geonosis and the peculiar mixture of leather, ash, and vanilla.

Together, with him sleeping on her shoulder and her resting lightly against his head, they had relinquished full awareness. The starship came out of lightspeed without a single twitch from the pair; the Jedi surrounded the bench with slow caution (and for a few, hesitant amusement) without a single change of breath from the sleeping couple. It was only when Obi-Wan carefully approached Padmé, squeezing her right shoulder and staying there as he waited for her to blink back into consciousness, that she blearily raised her head and Anakin sighed deeply. He remained asleep as Padmé mouthed 'Obi-Wan?' in confusion.

The image of Anakin and Padmé sleeping against each other had almost been sweet. Padmé had seemed to de-age, the wrinkles of anxiety absent in her comfortable sleep against the young man, who likewise seemed too young and innocent. Yet to Obi-Wan, it had been far more _terrifying_ than nice.

As Padmé regained her bearings, Obi-Wan approached the possible-Sith with a hand outstretched. The Jedi and Padmé watched as he gripped the bony shoulders, shaking him awake more forcibly than he had with Padmé but still with considerate care. Obi-Wan stood back a step when the Force notified him of Anakin's clumsy crawl back into alertness.

"Captain Typho is looking for you, Senator," informed Master Windu before Anakin's blue eyes snapped open and fixed on Obi-Wan's face. They flicked over to the dark-skinned Jedi and the other gathered Force users. And then he suddenly turned his entire body to face Padmé, his eyes wide and alarmed.

"Padmé?" he asked, swaying a little from the quick movement.

"Yes?" she said, unsure of what he wanted but ready to help. She shared a look with Obi-Wan and the Jedi. When he remained unresponsive, she tenderly pulled Anakin's face in her hands. To her horror, he adopted the skittish look of a wild animal. "Anakin. _Anakin_ , can you hear me?"

Anakin had gasped at the touch, weakly kicking his feet at her, and he missed every try. Padmé was far more concerned about Anakin's dangerous wobbling and confusion than his limp thrashes. But Mace Windu ignited his lightsaber with a _snap-hiss_ and held the shining purple laser up in warning.

He froze, breathing heavily. Before everyone's eyes, fluid gold seeped into the blue like flaming magma joining a rushing river. There was no material collective gasp of astonishment, but the Force oscillated with the emotions of startled fear and aggression before it was quickly smothered and dismissed away. Windu pointed the colored plasma at Anakin's throat, his face a cold type of firmness. As quickly as it came, though, the yellow drained away and uncomprehending blue was left, darting between the humming weapons, the people, and the open doorway behind them.

"Stand down," the Jedi Master ordered. The other Jedi shifted, hands thumbing the switches of their lightsabers and unwavering eyes on the boy.

Padmé swallowed and stared intensely at Anakin. There was no chance she could convince the Jedi to allow Anakin his freedom – especially when she was also just as curious about his introduction and the suspicious timing. Yet she also felt responsible for ensuring his care, the fledgling bond between them a slim but sturdy cord. The Senate had no place in how the Jedi conducted internal business over religious matters, but maybe…? She turned smartly on her heel, glaring at the Jedi. "He's dehydrated and disoriented. This is no way to treat a prisoner of war."

"Prisoner of war?" Plo Koon repeated flatly.

Padmé nodded resolutely. She had positioned herself between the lightsabers and Anakin. "Yes, Master Jedi."

"Padmé, step away please," Obi-Wan directed delicately, his own lightsaber unlit but the hilt gripped tightly in his hand.

"Right, the Senator is," Yoda interrupted, leaning on his gimer stick. His large eyes reviewed the situation keenly. "Proceed with questioning, we will. But to the Temple, we must go."

Padmé agreed and helped Obi-Wan lead Anakin onward, the three marching in front of the crowd of Jedi and towards the Temple. The teenager stumbled a few times — feeling extremely light-headed, dizzy, and barely awake — but their (tight) hold kept him upright.

It wasn't until Force-inhibitor cuffs had been fastened around his wrists (kriffing _again_ ) and he was shoved into what looked like a furbished storage room that Anakin slowly closed his eyes and felt his chest tighten in dreadful understanding. He had allowed one of his infamous bad decisions to muck up his freedom. Out of the Sith's tentacles and into the Jedi's claws.

Surely the Light users wouldn't outright kill him. Now that Anakin was in no position to continue to _stupidly_ believe hopeful illusions, he wondered how he could convince the Jedi that he was harmless before they started a sham of a trial. Better than Dooku, he reminded himself once more. The glass of water and plate of food on the short table in front of him attested to that.

He lowered himself into the wooden stool and sipped at the water in small gulps.

"Welcome to Coruscant," greeted a Jedi he had never seen before. There was no taunt in the words, but neither was there geniality. The door closed with a small click of a lock fastening shut, and he was alone without Padmé's glistening sun.

He didn't feel welcome in the slightest.

.

 _tbc_

.

 **Notes about this chapter:**

(1) I was originally trying ( _so_ hard) to stay clear of the "are you an angel?" because it's a cliché. But it just _worked_. If he had asked Padmé to wait, she would have politely told him she wanted to be alone rather than entertain a stranger. And the Force (and Anakin's own awful job at speech) understood this. They needed each other's company.

(2) "It sounded like a horrible pick-up line he'd hear in a brothel by some pathetic John trying too hard" was what I originally wrote. But then I realized the name John does not fit in a galaxy rife with unusual names. So I did some research on how characters were named (did you know Anakin Skywalker was named after Norse god of chaos, Loki?) and came up with Hin-Na. In the Polynesian Cook Islands there was a local myth of a maiden named Hina who eventually accepted an eel that could shape-shift into a human as a lover. Hin-Na doesn't have the same feel as John because it's not a common name in the slightest, obviously, but I can theoretically see it being used in the same manner. So bear with me, guys.

(3) Anakin stares at Padmé a lot in _Attack of the Clones_. The movie made it blatantly creepy, but sometimes it was just him not really knowing how to act around normal people. So I tried to keep that tone alive in this chapter, but more innocent than how the movie portrayed it. Plus, he isn't harboring a ten year old flame in this AU, so there's that.

(4) Thirty standard hours make up one day on Geonosis. I would be tired too.

(5) I was hesitant to change Ani's eyes yellow because he's _not_ a Sith and was just reflexively using the Dark Side. I checked if Asajj Ventress ever had yellow eyes (no) or Dooku (not really, though in _The_ _Clone Wars_ : kinda). It could be yellow only when drawing on immense amounts of Dark energy, so I'll go with that rather than automatic identification as a Sith.

.

More exposition, whoo! The Padmé and Anakin friendship may have been a little fast, but it was Meant To Be and they both needed each other's company. At least the romance won't be as sudden.

I can't wait for some Obi-Wan/Ani bonding though; it'll happen soon enough, but Anakin needed an outside friend first and foremost before the Jedi swooped in. I have _plans_ , ya'll, and I can't wait for the plot to really kick off. You'll love it. Thanks for reading this chapter and sticking around with me!


	3. Of Church and State

**Summary** : AU. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians.

 **Author's Note** : Thank you for all the reviews/follows/favorites! I appreciate the support _so much_. I wish there was a better way to express just how dearly all the different types of support mean to me than these brief words, but please know just how much I value you all. You are all perfect and I love you!

As a housekeeping note, I apologize for not personally answering the guest reviews – if you want a reply, please let me know and I'll add my response to the next chapters for you. I care about your input just as much as anybody else's own commentary! So, a good amount, haha.

Enjoy!

* * *

" _To be fed up, to be let down, to somehow turn it all around."_

Starset: "Antigravity"

* * *

Anakin couldn't withhold a chuckle at the sight before him. Luckily, neither person heard him, so he continued to watch the two argue back and forth as if he wasn't sitting in front of them, sipping his water and poking the vegetables on his plate with a metal fork. He mildly wondered how long the Jedi debated over giving him the utensil, worried he might be able to stab and kill them with its three small, sharp, _deadly_ spears. Anakin held the fork up and stared intently at the starblossom fruit he had pierced with dramatic relish just for the two Jedi guards unblinkingly watching him near the door.

"Padmé, be reasonable," the red-headed Jedi beseeched, unaware of Anakin's immature power-play in front of his eyes.

Padmé's mouth flattened into a tight line. "I am being reasonable, Obi-Wan. Just because you disagree does not make my argument any less valid."

Anakin smirked around the starblossom he started biting oh-so-slowly. The Jedi by the door shared a look.

"He could be a _criminal_. What you're offering is far too kind and, frankly, illogical."

"Illogical!" she echoed with a scandalized expression from the affront. "I think the word you're looking for is practical."

"Stop playing with your food," Obi-Wan interrupted suddenly, turning back to look at Anakin with an unamused expression.

Padmé made a face, agreeing with Obi-Wan but seeing no need for the harsh tone. Just for the sake of it, she snapped, "Leave him alone."

"Enough, you two," Mace Windu ordered, appearing with a hand placed on his hip and mouth set in a dark scowl as he reached out to close the door behind him. He glared at them and then at Anakin, his eyes dropping to the fruit skewered messily on the raised fork. The blond quickly adopted an innocent look, diverting his eyes to the ceiling and repressing the smile on his face.

Mace nodded at the two Jedi as they slipped out, shutting the door after they left. He stared at the three Humans with a deep frown.

Only ten standard minutes ago, the Jedi Council had decided to send in Obi-Wan Kenobi to question the potential Sith apprentice due their shared involvement in the arena before the large-scaled battle. Padmé had seemed to be waiting for just that request, dawdling near the Jedi despite Typho's constant calls on her comlink, and she made a long speech riddled with historical precedents and legal terms to allow herself in accompanying Obi-Wan. Thus, she successfully charmed (or wormed, to be more accurate) her way into also questioning the prisoner under supposed jurisdiction of the Senate. (If she actually held real authority was unclear to even Padmé and depended at least partially on the identity of the boy.) Obi-Wan had begrudgingly nodded his head only after the Grand Master accepted her passionate plea with a throaty chuckle.

So the two friends separated from the throng of Jedi and entered the room that held Anakin Skywalker with polarized and contrasting emotions. They each pulled up wooden chairs, positioning themselves in front of the short table and across from the young man who only stared back impassively at them.

Obi-Wan had rubbed his beard and exchanged a long, silent look with Skywalker. Once Padmé made herself comfortable on the chair, she immediately delved into questions about his health and if he was drinking the water they gave him. Anakin slowly disconnected the stare with the Jedi to smile lopsidedly at Padmé and answer in the positive.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. He said shortly, voice clipped, "Your name is Anakin Skywalker?"

Anakin had refocused his attention on the Jedi, pulling his blue eyes from the Senator to face Obi-Wan. Padmé leaned back in her chair and he heard the disgruntled huff. "Yes, sir."

"Who is your Master?"

He had skipped over any starter questions about the teenager's knowledge with the Force: how much he knew about it and if he could even really use it. He was already certain he was dealing with a Darksider, the rotten signature and yellow eyes evidence enough. The first thing Obi-Wan needed to know was the boy's relation to Dooku. Everything else was secondary to that answer.

Scowling at the word, Anakin's face seemed to pale as he shifted on the stool. A bad mixture of anger and fear—exactly what the Jedi were taught to overcome. "What happens to me if I answer that?"

Obi-Wan smiled calmly, leaning forward with his fingers on his chin. His tone was mild. "That depends on your answer."

"How about a deal, then?" Padmé chimed in brightly. She beamed at Anakin and then Obi-Wan. "The Republic will offer you asylum in exchange for information about the Separatists," she glanced questioningly at her friend, unsure about the religious terms and everything Jedi business entailed, "and the Sith."

Obi-Wan sputtered before point-blank refusing. Padmé frowned and opened her mouth.

And thus, the two spent the following eight minutes debating the merits of the exchange and the sanity of politicians. After the first three minutes, Anakin had become bored at the fancy talk full of big words and political jargon, more interested in the rumble of his stomach. With a mischievous smirk, he eyed his food and gladly put one of his favorite skills to test. It made him happy to know that this time he couldn't be punished with lightening to the skin. On the other side of the table, Padmé and Obi-Wan continued to argue and the Anakin Skywalker in front of them seemed to fade into the background.

That's how Mace found them.

Under Mace's sharp glare, Obi-Wan colored like he was a chastised youngling. Padmé nervously chewed the inside of her cheek, looking away from his glower and straight into Anakin's big blue eyes.

While the two Jedi were occupied for the brief moment of hushed lecture and (one-sided) discussion, Anakin and Padmé exchanged a stare full of untranslatable meaning. The strange man tilted his head and offered her a tiny, barely-there smile as if to assure her everything was going to be okay. Padmé couldn't help but return it, leaning against the chair's back just before Mace and Obi-Wan simultaneously faced Anakin.

Crossing his arms over his chest and the only one of the four who remained standing, Mace reintroduced, "Welcome to Coruscant, Anakin Skywalker. I am Master Windu and this is Knight Kenobi and Senator Amidala."

Anakin pulled his hands into his lap, bundling them into the folds of the blanket they had given him about a standard hour ago. "Hi."

"The Council has come to a decision regarding Senator Amidala's suggestion of asylum."

He paused to stare significantly at Anakin with a cool look, though Anakin mostly ignored it in favor of wondering nervously how the Council that Dooku had always whined never got anything of importance done came to a decision regarding him within the ten minutes the Jedi and Padmé had been in his cell. The speed left a bad taste in his mouth, and Anakin unconsciously thumbed the inhibitor cuffs with trembling fingers.

He burrowed his chained hands further inside the fabric of the blanket only after noticing his anxiety when Knight Kenobi's green-blue eyes flicked down, the hard lines of the Jedi's face seeming to soften just barely.

Despite the artificially simulated weather on Coruscant designed to maintain a pleasant temperature, Anakin had requested the blanket two hours ago in an attempt to discover what was going to happen to him. After he had been sitting with only his dark ruminations for far too long, the thoughts that coaxed him with sweet words of freedom and conceit became too much for him to sit idly by. However, all attempts at making conversation with the helpers had been met with silent failure. The fabric had been divinely soft, though, so it wasn't all for naught. At least _now_ Anakin could finally know what the Light users would do with him. Better late than never.

The warmth from the blanket luckily seemed to help calm him. Or maybe it was the lessened tension in the room as Padmé, Obi-Wan, and Anakin seemed to figuratively release a breath of pent-up air, not in relief but pause and preparedness.

Master Windu continued smoothly after Anakin's uneventful reaction, sharing a look equally with Padmé and Obi-Wan. He turned back to Anakin. "Depending on the depth and length of information you share, the Jedi Order will grant you refuge. Knight Kenobi will explain the details."

The three watched as the Korun Master swished out of the room with a flare of his large Jedi robes, the cloth flapping against the back of his boots and then disappearing out the door. There was no sound of a lock clicking shut and the two guarding Jedi from earlier did not return.

Anakin was feeling increasingly out of the loop, his thoughts racing from hopes of liberty to detached, trivial observations, like why the Jedi that was not present for the meeting was the one informing him of its details. At least he wasn't going to be executed.

In a flat monotone that didn't betray the confusion dancing in his spinning thoughts, Obi-Wan dutifully informed, "Firstly, before your application for asylum is accepted, you are requested to participate in an interview in front of the entire Jedi Council to ensure the safety of the Republic and its people."

Padmé turned wide, brown eyes to Obi-Wan as he continued to speak and list conditions (that Master Windu had, unfathomably, _somehow_ managed to explain in their brief discussion). She felt increasingly overhauled and wobbly, like she was no longer on stable ground. The Jedi had basically just come in and whisked Anakin Skywalker away from the Republic and fully into control of the Jedi. While the Senate held authority over its citizens, the Jedi Order was always involved in interstellar conflicts and security. Especially since Master Windu had offered shelter, Anakin was being ushered into Jedi housing and thus surveillance that only lightly masked itself as protection for Anakin.

She had been masterfully divorced from anything related to the blue-eyed stranger. As had the rest of the Republic. And what was even worse—there was nothing she could do about it.

"Shall you accept these terms, you will reside in the Jedi Temple as long as respectable conduct is maintained," Obi-Wan was saying.

The realization made her purely _mad_.

Anakin was starting to look a little lost and out of his league as he considered the offer, his eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed. He breathed out, the bundle of cloth twisting in his lap. "I agr—"

 _No_.

She would not stand for this. The Jedi were going to lock Anakin up, take his information, and then leave him to decay in a fluffed up closet sketched as a comfortable cage. The Jedi were certainly not heartless, but Padmé just _knew_ Anakin was going to be hidden away from the light of stars for a long time under the name of peace and security and _refuge_. Obi-Wan may have always claimed to bore her senseless with Jedi business whenever they met for lunch or in their downtime, but she could gather the hate relationship between the Sith and Jedi philosophies from his brief references. There was no reason to not assume the best of the worst scenarios running rampant in her experienced imagination.

"Ani, wait!" Padmé pleaded, only realizing too late she had fallen into using a casual nickname one might pose to a close friend or lover in her rush. Anakin had frozen and poor Obi-Wan choked on air, his body shaking from the sudden coughs. She didn't blush, though the heat in the room seemed to suddenly rise. Wasting no time, she hurriedly continued the more urgent line of thought and willed her heart to calm, "I request a stipulation."

Obi-Wan grimaced, not shifting in his seat but rubbing his beard as his own type of fidgeting. "I suppose I can hear it and inform the Council."

She smiled, breathing out and gently patting Obi-Wan's shoulder in thanks. It was the best he could do. "Anakin Skywalker shall be given Jedi protection in exchange for the in-depth information he gives the Republic on the happenings of the Separatists and Sith." Padmé stared down at her hands, tightening them into fists and then opening them again. She raised her head high, speaking lightly, "But he shall earn his housing in the Temple by working for the Jedi Order as an employee."

Obi-Wan quirked a brow but remained silent.

Anakin was busy chewing his lips and twisting his hands under the soft blanket. "Um, Senator Amidala, thank you for trying to help." He stopped, trying to find the words so he wouldn't come off like a rude idiot. In the end, he could only manage a simple, "But how does giving me a job make much of a difference?"

Not to mention she didn't know anything about his skill sets. But that was a different issue.

"By paying for your own housing, you can continue your own independence. You'll have the ability to be active and even leave the Temple at times. Probably with a Jedi protector," she assumed, at least, considering their suspicious nature concerning Anakin, "but ultimately not locked away." And _that_ was the crux of her worries.

Though the idea had just come to her with little planning, it appeared to cover the important bases. With a job, Anakin could not be treated as a prisoner as easily. He would still be monitored, she was sure, but not through the bars of a cage. He could leave the Temple grounds and spend time doing fun things like any other refugee fleeing a dangerous world would be encouraged to do. The money would serve both as a tool to foster his freedom and lessen the debt to the Jedi. This way the Jedi were more obligated for a tolerant treatment.

"Oh." Anakin blinked, smiling shyly into his lap. He had not thought that far ahead. At all. Stars, she really was from Iego.

Obi-Wan sighed and Padmé laughed apologetically at the mess she was making. A mess she would gladly make, a million times over, but it did seem to put a strain on her friend. Especially since Obi-Wan rarely questioned the Council. So different than his master, she mused wistfully, but that was neither here nor there.

In a way, she was requesting a sort of compromise. This way the Jedi could still survey Anakin and his Sith tendencies and the Republic would still gain the knowledge he had on the Separatists. But Anakin could also have some sort of normalcy and freedom that she originally wanted him to have when she suggested asylum. Having a job was insurance for his quasi-freedom. Though it was possible the Council would dismiss her idea, it was unlikely that most Jedi would in good conscience choose the unnecessarily harsh option.

The three looked at each other, the lull in conversation hitting a dead-end and transforming into silence. Each felt off-kilter and unsure, but ultimately ready to see what the future would bring like passengers on a watership without a steering wheel.

* * *

…o0o…

* * *

Anakin stood petrified before the entire Jedi Council. Right next to him Knight Kenobi was bowing in greeting to the Masters. Padmé was listening just outside the doors since she refused all attempts he made for her to meet up with the Captain (who was still calling her shut-down comlink even after she informed him of her new schedule).

Internally panicking at being without the Force in the presence of _so many_ experienced Jedi, Anakin instinctively stumbled back and towards the doors.

Kenobi's hand flashed out from his large sleeves and gripped his arm tightly. Anakin made a pained face, not because of the hold but the situation, and the Jedi stared back with his own version of a grimace. Apparently he was more tense being before the Masters than he looked.

The teenager took a deep breath and slowly released it, feeling the cool air of the Temple filling his mouth and the warmth of Kenobi's hand still on his arm. Just _feeling_ had always been a good, if temporary, strategy whenever he felt overwhelmed by the dreams of the blood on the sand and the flashes of yellow and black in the suns' lights.

As the Knight informed the sitting Council of Senator Amidala's request, Anakin found he couldn't take another breath as eyes roamed unrestrained over his body like slavers selecting a good, lasting soul to break. His chest felt tight and twisted. _Danger_ , his mind and body were screaming at him. _Get out._

Anakin closed his eyes and tried to center himself. It unfortunately wasn't working.

"What's wrong with the boy?"

"Skywalker?"

"Child?"

The icy black was creeping up, smiling gently and offering a pale hand to help. Anakin choked, falling back and pulling Kenobi with him.

 _Get out. Run!_

Obi-Wan suddenly pulled Anakin closer to him, the slim body smacking against the Jedi's tan clothing. Without waiting a second, the Knight encircled his arms around his taller shoulders and pulled the both of them down onto the ground. Obi-Wan leaned in, shoving Anakin's face into his chest.

"Breathe with me. Feel my heartbeat, Anakin," Obi-Wan requested calmly, rubbing his hands over Anakin's back. "Breathe… slowly, that's it. Good job, Anakin. Good. With me, now."

As the Council stared on, quiet, a few more moments passed until Anakin slowly lifted his head and Obi-Wan fluidly backed away a respectful distance again. He could breathe and no longer felt like baby Krayt dragons were simultaneously pulling on his skin and sitting on his chest. Anakin rose, his chin downturned.

"Thank you," he mumbled quietly, not chancing a shameful look at Kenobi and choosing to stare dully at his torn boots. He was so kriffing weak. The throbbing pain from his back was flaring again, agitated by the press of kind hands, and it only served to remind him of Dooku's many words. Maybe the man hadn't been so wrong after all.

"Hmmm," the green troll-like Jedi said, sounding curious.

Anakin didn't lift his stare from his shoes.

The harder voice of Master Windu spoke, "As much as we appreciate Senator Amidala's suggestion, Skywalker may not have adequate ability for the jobs available."

A murmuring of agreement bubbled up around the circle. Anakin hugged himself tighter, the sole black pupil surrounded by the colorful Light in an encircling ring. As the beings debated the possibilities along with the pros and cons of employment, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Anakin tightened his jaw. It was looking like Padmé's request was going to be denied, and it likely had nothing to do with his abilities.

"I'm good at fixing things," he interrupted boldly, raising his chin and staring into Windu's dark eyes. "I was the most popular mechanic on Tatooine. And I can pilot real good – one of the best you'll find."

The Jedi around him seemed to simultaneously shift in their seats at the disrespect and challenge. Anakin's courage fled immediately and, shoulders slumping, he looked back to the pristine floor.

As a voice croaked in finality, "Accept the Senator's request, the Council does not" they were once again interrupted.

"If I may make a suggestion, Masters?" Knight Kenobi asked politely, his accent seeming more polished in the face of challenge.

Anakin swallowed, eyeing the Human Jedi from the corner of his eye. The Council members nodded, waving hands or claws in acceptance.

Taking an audible breath as if steeling himself, he said, "I offer my services to be the one guarding Skywalker. I have a room in my apartment since I do not have a Padawan learner and have not planned on taking one anytime soon." He looked perceptively around the room and continued slowly, "But when I am assigned to missions, it would be wise that the boy is not left to his own devices. A job here would serve him well and occupy his time in a productive manner."

As heads turned to look curiously and questioningly to fellow Council members, Anakin stared at Obi-Wan and was the only one of two to notice how the Jedi's eyes flicked to the doorway in one blink before he was back to facing stoically forward.

Anakin suddenly felt at ease, understanding why the Jedi had made such a generous offer. He might even be happy living with Kenobi, then.

"Very well," Master Windu stated after the members' conversations hushed in agreement. "Anakin Skywalker will live with Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and work in the Temple in exchange for information on the Separatists and Sith."

"I agree," Anakin put in before the Master could continue speaking. He had a voice in this too. They couldn't just assume his agreement; he was a person, not a tool.

Windu glared at him and Anakin shut his mouth with a click of teeth.

Continuing, the dark-skinned Korun said, "To ensure the safety of the Republic, Skywalker will remain with the inhibitor cuffs on except when in the company of two Jedi Masters for his own Force-related health."

He waited to let that order sink in.

Anakin scowled at the ground, hate tingling behind his eyes. The Force was as much himself as his own soul. To be cut off from the power he'd had from birth for an innumerable amount of time was going to be a struggle. But maybe he was underestimating himself? He abstained from using the Force countless times when Dooku would ask and that was okay. He wasn't a stranger to the inhibitor cuffs, either. Perhaps it would even be easy.

"And the job?" A Tholothian questioned.

"Decide that another time, we will," the Grand Master informed.

"The information, then?"

Anakin took a deep breath and opened his mouth, ready to offer what he knew about Dooku and the little information the man left out in the open for him to find on the Separatists' movement.

"Dismissed, Skywalker and Kenobi are," the troll-being said instead. "Get the information another time, we will as well."

Anakin stared questioningly at the short Jedi that apparently held most of the authority in the room. Obi-Wan tugged on his arm and Anakin slowly followed after him, at the last minute mimicking a bow.

They met a curious and anxious Padmé in the hallway. With a dazed expression, Anakin informed her of the Council's agreement to her request.

"I guess you're now an employee of the Jedi, Anakin," she laughed, pleased. "That's great!"

Anakin smiled shyly. "Thanks, Padmé," he told her, meaning it for more than the warm words.

She turned to Obi-Wan with an inquiring expression and he explained the details as Anakin glanced amazedly into the arching hallways of the Jedi Temple. His new home.

Though there were many unknowns left—when he needed to inform them of Dooku, what would happen to him after he had no information left, what his new job would be, how everything would work—Anakin for the first time in four years felt like he was finally on the road to making his mom proud. It was the promise he was going to continue working on for the rest of his life, but it seemed like he was no longer aimlessly drifting in a dark forest with no path.

.

 _tbc_

.

 **Notes about this chapter:**

(1) To be eligible for asylum in the United States, you must not be convicted of a serious crime or believed to be a danger to the security of the nation, among other conditions. On the surface, if Obi-Wan suspected Ani to be a Sith, he automatically fails. For Padmé, without the religious knowledge/connotations, Anakin seems like a good candidate to help.

(2) Watership – that word doesn't exist, even in _Star Wars_. But I thought, they have starships, why not waterships? They must want to differentiate between floating in space versus on liquids, and since water is paired with life it's probably a very common liquid on inhabited planets.

(3) Know how I said in chapter one Ani is powerful in the Force? His panic attack was rooted from the mass of Force power from all the Masters surrounding him, especially when he already felt vulnerable being without the Force. And I can tell you, the Council was certainly not feeling accepting towards our not-Sith at the moment so those slight feelings maaaay have bled over into semi-awareness.

.

Gahhhh, this chapter was a _killer_ to write. I kept getting stuck, feeling like people were too out-of-character and cold. OOC-ness is a huge worry for me – let me know if my people get unbelievable, 'kay? I'm counting on ya'll!

And also, writing about the politics and Jedi/Republic authority kept on confusing me. Can they even do this? I don't even know! (/Ugly sobbing./) I had to write down all the intricate political maneuverings and arguments on paper in detail just to organize this horrifying mess 'cause my mind was only repeating 'I am so lost.' What is life, even?

My dear readers, please suspend any disbelief regarding the legality behind this and go with it (though I'll certainly be happy to take suggestions that may make this more believable). I tried to do research over who had power over what, but… it was a mess and I know I failed, so _I_ ( _truly) deeply apologize_. I definitely enjoyed this chapter more in the second half when it was away from the heavy politics.

As well, sorry for the information dump that was probably extremely dry and boring. BUT! Now that that is done and locked away in a pretty box, I can finally have Anakin move around, unlike as he was for these three first chapters. I'm sure he's happy about that, hehe.

Thank you very much for reading this crazy mess and still hanging around! I would be nowhere without y'all.


	4. Red Sand

**Summary** : AU. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians.

 **Author's Note** : Thank you for all the support, everyone! It always brightens my day knowing there are people who enjoy what I've written. I'm so glad to be a part of this community; everyone is so kind and thoughtful. Recently I've been in a circle of bad days, so you guys are super awesome!

Enjoy!

* * *

" _I remember thinking, are we out of the woods yet?"_

Taylor Swift: "Out of the Woods"

* * *

Someone was screaming. It was a high-pitched, animalistic yell overflowing with fear and desperation. The twin suns were so bright—too bright—and it felt like everything was burning up in the light's harsh rays. The sand was tainted crimson, the grainy dots of red and yellow glittering in symphony.

Thin, trembling fingers were _reaching_.

No one was helping.

Anakin looked down at the sand clenched between his fists. The ruddy dirt had stained his fingers, the hematite minerals marking his rough skin in ugly smears of copper. The dry air of Geonosis swept past him, picking up loose dust as the beginnings of sanguine swirls started to form in stormy vortexes.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and the sand was getting _everywhere_.

Without warning, Anakin collapsed onto his knees and the blackness that hung prettily from the corner of his sight in intricate cobwebs reached for him in an all-encompassing hug so incredibly gentle and comforting and dangerous. The light disappeared and all his eyes could see was a blank nothingness.

" _Nobata_!"

He bolted up, quickly rolling off the softness below him before his mind could even comprehend the lack of sand and the pleasant smell of fresh plants notably absent on desert planets. His shoulders smacked the wood floor and his injured back screamed unhappily at the abuse. Using the pain, Anakin forced himself to stand. His eyes could barely make out the blurry shapes of a bed, table, and dresser.

Where was he? Was this a new training simulation?

Anakin speedily backed into the corner of the room, pressing his aching back against the corner's sharp edges and holding his hands out in front of him. He tensed his body in preparation, ready to win the fight.

As if on cue, the door to the room opened and warm light cheerfully let itself in, illuminating the details of the room and the humanoid-person standing in the open archway in a dark silhouette.

"Skywalker?" the Human said, concerned and wary. His voice seemed overly soft. "Is everything alright?"

Hesitating, Anakin pulled for the Force to discover intentions and feelings.

Nothing. The supernova of energy that always stood side-by-side with him had been joined by a nearby and invisible super-massive black hole. The companionate wings that tried to brush against him were pulled away, again and again, despite the way his attempts grew more fervent and powerful.

Keeping calm, Anakin kept a cagey stare on the man who was serenely leaning against the doorframe, staring back at him with intelligent eyes.

The person didn't seem to have any aggressive intention, and he had used his given name rather than the labels Dooku or his lackeys used… Anakin pursed his lips, confused. Had one of his escape attempts succeeded—but then, why was he still wearing inhibitor cuffs like unconnected bracelets if he escaped Dooku? He peered suspiciously at the light-colored robes and sunny halo that embraced the man from behind.

Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was in the Jedi Temple. Or more specifically, Kenobi's apartment in the Temple.

Anakin slumped against the wall, heaving an exhausted sigh and sliding down. He pulled his knees against his chest. This was the second time since the gladiator battle that he awoke disoriented, thinking himself still in the Sith Lord's aristocratic, cruel hands. But he had to be fair to himself — in the past, awaking alert and paranoid had saved him from many scars. The Count took sick pleasure in refusing to train him on a schedule, exprobating him over laziness and how much of a slow learner he was. The surprise visits were common enough for both his mind and body to understand what needed to be done.

Knight Kenobi pushed himself off the wall to stand straighter but did not intrude any more into the room. Anakin watched him flatly, feeling spent and drained but weirdly possessive of this space that he might, hopefully, be able to call his own for once in his life. A possession. _Mine_.

"You are not allergic to any foods, are you?" Kenobi asked and smiled slightly at his jerky shake. While Anakin struggled to pull himself up, the Jedi turned and called over his shoulder, "I would appreciate it if we eat breakfast together."

Anakin scrambled after the shorter man, not wanting the Light user to harbor any more negative feelings toward him than necessary. The Jedi's philosophical prejudices were enough, thank you very much. He didn't need to add rudeness to his résumé.

As Anakin speed-walked out of the room, the light from the open windows in the small living room area almost blinded him, and he dramatically staggered back a step. The shades had been drawn and the petite flowers (and, Anakin squinted, a cactus?) sitting on the windowsill were happily soaking up the light.

How long had he slept? What time in the day was it?

Anakin carefully shuffled further into the open area, worrying the edge of his shirt with nimble fingers. Knight Kenobi was humming as he busied himself near a kitchen counter, appearing to flick through bags of herbs. The almost twenty-year-old slowly walked near the one, elongated table that stood off-center in the room but which still caught the majority of bright light from Coruscant's sun.

It was a tiny apartment, smaller than what he expected. Having been constantly told of the Jedi's loose morals and seeing for himself the extravagant Temple decorum, Anakin had imagined the Light-users to reside in large, lavish homes. But not so, apparently. Kenobi had a kitchen that seemed to be only just bigger than his and his mom's old slave quarter's kitchen, but with far more storage space in wooden drawers and high reaching cabinets. There was an old-looking couch against the far wall and before it was a square holonet set, likely for listening to the news. Other than that, only the table and two chairs took up the rest of the space.

Kenobi was carrying two steaming cups over to the table, setting them both across from each other with graceful ease. He meandered around the counter and reappeared again with two plates that held neatly cut omelets and sweet-looking xirlias. Anakin had seen Dooku occasionally offer visiting Separatist dignitaries the pastry and other baked dishes as appetizers far too delicious for a slave boy like him to even eat as leftovers. He had been allowed to look and listen. For his training, his "master" claimed. He was supposed to be paying attention to the political speeches and learn, not indulge in his basic urges. Hah.

"Later in the day you may browse through the tea bags and choose one more to your liking," the Knight offered generously as the plates were set on the table, motioning towards the hot cups. He pulled up his chair and sat down without preamble.

Anakin waited, hovering near the other chair and eyeing the food appreciatively.

The silence stretched between them.

"You're welcome to sit," Kenobi finally said, haltingly.

Anakin promptly seated himself and raised his head enough to see Obi-Wan's flustered expression. Anakin blushed, feeling increasingly frustrated at himself. He poked the cooked egg with a fork and tried a shrug. "Um, sorry. Habit."

Obi-Wan smiled reassuringly. "It's alright." He continued after a deliberating pause, "In the future, you don't need to ask for permission to sit or get food or anything like that."

"Okay."

The two ate in silence. Anakin kept his eyes on his plate, the food quickly disappearing. When his fork scraped the ceramic floor of the plate, he slowly looked up. Opening his mouth, Anakin prepared to break the awkward air between them. Obi-Wan beat him to it.

"I hope you didn't mind me moving you last night," he apologized, stroking his beard as his gaze traveled to the bright window. He sipped quietly at the tea without looking back at Anakin.

Anakin followed his lead, raising his cup and blowing at the cursive ribbons of steam.

He frowned as he thought back to last night. Padmé had informed them of her plans to spend time with her family on Naboo after talk of the Council's decision finished, and she had promised to be back in less than a month. She was adamant that Obi-Wan and Anakin agree to meet up with her for a lunch or another small gathering after she returned. Once at the steps outside, she hugged Obi-Wan and then Anakin goodbye, smiling luminously.

They watched her disappear down the stairs feeling far more discomfited in each other's company than when Padmé was with them. The two men eyed each other for almost five entire seconds before the Jedi finally waved Anakin forward with the intention to show him to their now-shared quarters. The length from the Temple entrance to the Knight's home wasn't too far, though Anakin was feeling the exhaustion of the day in his body and head as he trailed after the Jedi. He hadn't paid much attention to the long hallways and random turns they took. Finally arriving, Kenobi had tapped the lights on and the teenager lethargically followed after the shorter Human.

"Wait here while I clean up your room, please."

Kenobi vanished into the room on the left. Anakin swallowed his yawn. He could hear the quiet sounds of objects being gathered together and shifted around. Obi-Wan reemerged with a bundle of light-colored clothes and other small things in his arms. He entered the room on the right before moments later revisiting the other room to finish cleaning and removing belongings.

Anakin had breathed out, rubbing his eyes. There was a couch in front of him. Only semi-aware, he walked over to the short furniture. And promptly collapsed. He must have fallen asleep and not awoken even when Kenobi moved him into his room. It explained waking up on a soft bed, disoriented.

"Ah, no, I don't mind. Thank you," Anakin finally answered, testing the warm liquid on his tongue. It was a little too sweet, but nonetheless pleasant and delicious.

"The couch isn't very comfortable," Obi-Wan explained, looking over to the old cushions. "My old master had received it as a gift a long time ago."

"I see."

They fell into another dip of quiet.

"Who was your old master?" Anakin asked, only just stumbling over the hated word, twisting his hands in his lap and off-handedly wishing he still had the large sleeves of his black cloak to hide them under. "Does he still live in the Temple?"

Obi-Wan's face seemed to stiffen, the blue-green brightness dulling. "No."

Anakin flinched at the tone, ducking his head so the blond fringe covered his eyes. "Oh."

Kenobi sighed heavily. "No, it's alright, I was the one who mentioned him." There was no pause, but the Jedi's tone flattened darkly here, "He died on Naboo about ten years ago during the blockade crisis."

 _How?_ Anakin itched to ask, feeling like the story was one of utmost importance. But something smart inside him argued that it would only be making trouble at this time. Instead he said delicately, "I'm sorry."

Kenobi accepted the words calmly, showing none of the regret or grief Anakin almost expected. A model Jedi.

"What time is it?" he blurted, ready for the conversation to shift and not having the talent for subtlety.

The Knight's gaze flicked over Anakin's head and he turned, following the direction of his eyes. He missed the odd smile playing at the older man's lips. The Jedi answered before Anakin could struggle out how to read the chronometer. "About ten 'til noon."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Anakin had never slept in for so long. Even on Tatooine, he had awoken before sunrise to catch the most amount of time before the twin suns made activity impossible. With Dooku, sleep itself had become a luxury.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Kenobi questioned. He rested his half-empty cup on the table and gave Anakin the full attention of his colorful eyes.

"I don't have nightmares, Knight Kenobi," Anakin responded mechanically, narrowing his eyes. Was this a power-play – the Jedi would emphasize his weakness and then use that against him? Taunt him? He fisted his hands in his lap and the action reminded him of the feeling of coarse sand in his palm. Like in his dream. Memory. Whatever.

Knight Kenobi didn't seem surprised at his reaction. Anakin's mouth tightened as he anticipated the Jedi pushing for more information. But he said instead, "Please, call me Obi-Wan."

Anakin blinked, his mouth forming a small 'o'. Visibly shaking his head, he managed to say, "You can call me Anakin, then. Not Skywalker."

Obi-Wan chuckled, nodding agreeably. "Nice to meet you, Anakin."

Anakin blinked again, squishing up his face. He did not like how out of sorts he felt with this Jedi. "Nice to meet you too, I guess."

"Marvelous." Obi-Wan pushed himself back from the table, gathering his plate and cup to take to the kitchen sink. Anakin followed after him, feeling a little lost and out-maneuvered even though he couldn't see anything to maneuver in the first place. After each person cleaned the dishes and toweled them dry (Anakin handing them over to Obi-Wan to put away), the two stood side-by-side in silence.

"Well, I have to speak to the Council in two hours," he informed. His gaze sharpened, "Will you be alright by yourself for a few hours?"

Anakin forced back his glower and tried for a pleasant smile. It didn't really work if Obi-Wan's quirked eyebrow meant anything. "Yes."

Obi-Wan hummed in acceptance and strolled out of the small kitchen. He disappeared into his room on the right and Anakin walked towards the couch. The Jedi appeared again, though, and Anakin stared suspiciously at the man when he resettled himself by the table with a datapad.

Surely his room included a desk. Was the Jedi keeping him under his watch or was it something else?

Anakin turned mid-step and made a theatrical show of going back into his room and away from the Jedi. When he was at his door, he peeked over his shoulder only to see Obi-Wan grinning amusedly back at him, the datapad turned on and held loosely in his hand. Anakin suddenly felt very stupid and he rushed to throw himself into his room and lean against the closed door, his elbow covering his eyes.

He inhaled and slowly exhaled.

The upset tingling from his back forced him to stalk over to his bed and flop face-first into the pillows. He clutched the cushion close to him in a tight embrace, rubbing his cheek against the sheet's gentle fabric. Without meaning to, Anakin began to doze into a light sleep, trying to escape the memories from the morning and the hollow feeling of being bereft of the Force. Of being alone. _Weak_.

 _I wasn't strong enough, and I'm_ so sorry _. But I hope you're still proud of me now, Mom,_ he thought sleepily as the bliss of warmth and tenderness and light seemed to escort him into unconsciousness.

From the bright daylight of the hallway two hours later, Obi-Wan had knocked twice to no answer before leaving for the Council meeting. He didn't open the door or see Anakin deeply asleep, choosing to respect the boy's claim to privacy. As he flicked the lights off in the living room, Obi-Wan double-checked the pass-code lock on the door and headed down the magnificent hallways of the Temple. There was a lot to discuss with the Masters.

* * *

…o0o…

* * *

Anakin awoke feeling refreshed and relaxed. He stretched, throwing his lanky arms over his head and curling his toes. Rolling off his bed in a much easier manner compared to this morning's panic, he poked his head out of his room and surveyed the state of the living room. He couldn't see Obi-Wan, so the Jedi was either in the meeting or had retired into his own room. The sunlight had even dimmed into a deep orange from the sunset, covering the furniture and floor in long shadows.

He spent the following minutes exploring every corner of the Jedi's quarters. The refresher he hadn't seen that morning was just off to the side, closest to Obi-Wan's door. Anakin checked its small sink, running the plentiful and cool water over his fingers, entranced. Free flowing water never ceased to amaze him. Once he clicked the water off, Anakin walked into the box-like shower and played with the dials for a short amount of time. He resolved to actually take a shower once he finished his investigation, feeling with sharp clarity the sand dirtying his skin and clothes.

After checking closets and opening all the kitchen drawers, Anakin was satisfied. He breathed out, smiling slightly.

A shower did seem nice right about now.

With slivers of fear and hesitation, the teenager toed Obi-Wan's door open, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He had knocked loudly and enough times to know that the Jedi was no longer in the apartment. And Anakin wanted a change of clothes, his loose-fitted shirt muddied and smelly. His pants were faring no better, scuffed and tattered and just as grimy. Though he was taller than the Jedi, Anakin would settle with something clean to wear even if it didn't exactly fit.

He stood there for at least ten minutes, staring and shifting his weight between his feet. As much as he considered this necessary, the consequences of borrowing the Jedi's clothes without permission burned hotly in his imagination. Perhaps waiting until Obi-Wan returned would be better?

Anakin combed a hand through his hair and then hissed when his fingers got tangled up in the knots. He really, really wanted to take a shower and be done with the dirt and smell and Force-forsaken _feeling_ of Geonosis and the Sith and the Dark Side.

Raising his chin, Anakin pulled up his eyes to glare into the darkness of Kenobi's room. His lips were pressed together into a thin line and the expression on his face was hard. He stepped resolutely into the cold room, steeling himself, and he quickly found the small closet. In the back of his mind, he attuned himself to the sound of a door unlocking and forced his heart to slow its frightened tune. No matter how many times Anakin had disobeyed Dooku, the feeling of fear still permeated his very core whenever he rebelled. It was no different now.

Folding the off-white robe and undershirts over his arm, Anakin snagged some socks and pants from the drawer. He took care not to snoop any further than he needed. The teenager took long, quick strides out of the room, blowing out air as the door closed behind him.

The living room was now in a grey darkness, the sunlight no longer peaking inside. Not bothering to turn on the artificial light, Anakin ducked into the 'fresher with his bundle of (stolen) clean clothes. Easily understanding from his earlier assessment how to work the shower, the pelts of warm water instantly soothed his mind and body. He melted, smiling with his eyes closed against the sprinkles of water. Dirt and old blood sped down his body with the translucent liquid, pooling around his feet and then down the drain in diluted red bubbles.

Taking advantage of the privilege of temperate, flowing water, it wasn't until much later that Anakin stepped out. He didn't bother to towel himself dry, instead shaking or brushing off the water with his hands. He shimmied into the Jedi's pants, amused when he looked in the full-body mirror. It was a tight fit, but not terribly so, and the length was shorter than he expected. He smiled sheepishly at his reflection, thinking about how the lighter-colored clothing looked weird on him compared to his darker style.

Anakin was trying to put on the shirt when he opened the door and entered the complete darkness of the apartment. Debating shortly whether to turn the refresher light back on or not, he shrugged dismissively and carefully made his way to his room in the shadows.

And jumped, squeaking, when the lights suddenly lit up. Anakin blinked at the adjustment, hugging the tunic tightly against his bare chest as he squinted at the front door.

Obi-Wan's expression was horrified, gaping, and Anakin remained rooted to the spot, his wide eyes flicking around. Oh no, no, nonono. The shirt dropped from his hold, tumbling onto the floor by Anakin's bare feet.

"Anakin," the Jedi said slowly. He ordered, his tone brooking no arguments as he took a step forward, "You need to come with me right now—"

"Wait, wait, I can explain!" Anakin rushed out, interrupting the Jedi and stumbling back and hitting the wall. His back flared and Anakin hissed in surprise.

Knight Kenobi was already by his side, and Anakin leaned away, cringing and squeezing his eyes shut. He reopened them, one by one, after nothing happened. The Jedi was hovering uncertainly near him, his left hand outstretched, palm open, as if to touch him. The two exchanged a long look.

"You need to see a healer," Obi-Wan said immediately. He stared at Anakin's large eyes, nodded to himself, and then reached out. Smooth fingers ghosted over Anakin's skin in gentle brushes, and Anakin sagged a little at the good feeling, masking his initial flinch. "I can heal the little cuts, but the gash on your back looks infected. You need to see a professional healer."

"Oh, okay," he mumbled, blinking a couple of times as he stared at Obi-Wan's concerned face, the man busying himself with the Force healing. A nice feeling kissed his skin, and Anakin swallowed, forcing himself to look away from the Human's kindness.

Soon, the tingling feeling disappeared. Anakin raised his head. Obi-Wan's fingers were still on his skin, making gentle trails along his shoulder and collarbone and his back, carefully skirting around the open injury.

"There are a lot of scars," Obi-Wan said, sounding slightly strangled and choked up. Anakin's eyes dropped down onto his forearm where a scab was still in the process of healing.

Even though Anakin did not want to, he found himself saying, "Some are from taking out the slave chips."

"Slave chips?" Obi-Wan echoed hollowly.

Anakin chewed on his lip. The Jedi had healed him and offered to house him for nothing in return. It would only be fair. Closing his eyes, Anakin swallowed the clean air of the Temple and said dispassionately, "Dooku bought me when I was slave. It wasn't until a year later that I learned how to use the Force to find the chip. The first time, I found some broken glass, cut myself an opening, and used the Force to twist it out. That one was near my collarbone."

"Anakin."

He continued, not hearing the interruption, "The second time, Dooku put it closer to my bone and in a different place. I used the Force to find it again. By the end, I guess I annoyed him enough that he finally stopped and used more direct means of keeping me in place."

He opened his eyes. The glazed blue was heartbreakingly dead. Without thinking, Obi-Wan pulled the thin boy into his arms, mirroring how he had reacted to the panic attack one day ago. He didn't know what to say.

A shadow passed over Anakin's face as images flashed in full-color behind his eyes.

He choked on a sob, holding back angry and grieving tears, clutching the Jedi's robe like his life depended on it. He was talking and couldn't stop. "I was so _stupid_. I had just finished making a scanner to find our transmitters, but I had to find mom's first. _I had to_!"

Obi-Wan was rubbing calming circles with the pads of his thumb over Anakin's skin. The water from his wet hair dripped down, sliding over the shiny, pale stripes of scar tissue. He couldn't feel any of it.

"We had everything planned. But then Dooku came and Watto didn't stand a chance. I was sold. Mom tried to stop them, knowing what my life was going to be like before I even understood what was happening. She was crying and, oh Force, I killed her."

Anakin broke, sobbing loudly and hiding his face in his hands.

He hadn't been ready to face this memory but it was already too late. He remembered her reaching for him as he was pulled away. The tips of their fingers had met, just the barest of touches. Her shrieks were just as piercing as his desperate shouts.

And Dooku, looking like he would rather be anywhere than on a gangster planet like Tatooine, snapped his red lightsaber on as his shady companion flicked his knife open. Shmi understood and Anakin understood. Her face was tracked with tears and mud, but at the threat of the blades it had hardened into determination. With a last burst of speed, his mom had lunged towards him. It was a last bid effort to spare Anakin from the horrors she knew these men would force on him. She had to at least try.

The blood splattered against the yellow sand.

Anakin twisted free and unknowingly the man holding him was thrown back a good couple meters. He _reached_ and only managed to grip gritty sand in his palm as Dooku dug his claws into his shoulder and pulled. He kicked and screamed, sand scattering up around them.

No one had helped.

Shmi was smiling sadly from the ground. Anakin couldn't look away as he was yanked farther and farther away. She mouthed, her affectionate eyes never leaving his face, _I'm so proud of you. I love you, Ani._ Like never before, Anakin could somehow _feel_ her life snap away like all of his bones were breaking at once and his loving connection with her severed abruptly. Forever.

"I promise I'll make you proud, mom," he had declared to himself and the galaxy after the man with yellow eyes tossed him into a closet in their starship with a sneer. And he used both his hate towards the murderers and love towards his mother to refuse any and everything the killers asked, especially regarding the use of the Dark Side of the Force enough to become one of them.

"I wasn't strong enough," Anakin said, pulling himself away from Obi-Wan's gentle aura and into the bitter blackness. He glared heatedly at his hands. _Dooku will pay, and I will kill him myself._

"I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered, lost, feeling the boy's emotions in the Force in a way he had never experienced.

"I don't need your pity," he snapped, crossing his arms over his naked chest.

Obi-Wan easily smoothed over Anakin's quick change of moods. "I know." The rage, grief, and powerlessness radiating off him was making the Jedi feel dizzy. It was late and both of them were strung up too tightly at the moment. "I have a request."

Anakin nodded, his glare still burning and unforgiving.

"We'll meditate together tomorrow morning." Obi-Wan closed his eyes, felt for the right decision, opened them again, and then continued with his green-blue gaze sharp and intense, "And I'll take off your cuffs while we meditate."

Anakin seemed to brighten up at the idea of being with the Force again. Obi-Wan hoped he wasn't making a horrible mistake.

"But first, you need to get your back injury looked at."

So Obi-Wan dropped a flowing robe over Anakin's shoulders and the two made their way to the Temple healers. He waited patiently in the hall as the teenager was surrounded by Jedi healers kindly poking and prodding. The infection was cleaned and bacta patches were liberally applied over the back wound and other smaller injuries. Anakin reemerged looking very patched up, and his color had returned to a healthy pink.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting. Obi-Wan worried over disobeying the Council so obviously, but a quick look at Anakin's soulful eyes as they were walking back to their apartment let peace settle in his heart. The Force being with the boy again would be good, as would rudimentary Jedi training to help him deal with the horrors of his past.

Yes, interesting was the right word. Qui-Gon would have been proud of him finally following the pokes of the Living Force, albeit hesitatingly and likely not to last.

.

 _tbc_

.

 **Notes about this chapter** :

(1) Nobata – "no" in Huttese.

(2) "Xirlia was a pastry known for being tasty" claims Wookiepedia. Seems legit.

(3) I debated so long (completely unnecessarily) over which room to give Anakin, taking into account Obi-Wan's own feelings on the matter. I finally decided on Obi-Wan moving out of his old Padawan room to give to Anakin, while he takes up Qui-Gon's untouched room. It wasn't clear in the chapter, so I just thought I'd reiterate the arrangement here if anyone cares.

.

Is Anakin going to have a panic attack every chapter? My poor dear. He has a lot of pain in his system, most of it emotional. At least he doesn't bottle it all in and pretend emotions don't exist, that would certainly not work out (coughcough).

I wish there was some humor in this chapter, because that's what keeps me going, but all of this needed to be said and it's a sad subject by nature.

Sorry for those looking forward to some Anidala this chapter, but Padmé's family is important and she deserves a break from assassins and Sith Lords and all that crazy nonsense. Just to clear this up: while I will definitely go into the romance, the main focus will be on friendship and hurt/comfort, as the tags for this story proclaim. I want to write about _love_ , in any and all the forms that will take. I hope that doesn't bother anyone!

Thank you very much for reading! You are all too good to me. :)


	5. Misadventures in Meditation

**Summary** : AU. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians.

 **Author's Note** : Thank you all for reading! I never expected my story to be so enjoyable, so I'm super duper happy that's what happened. And feel free to talk to me – criticism, comments, what-have-you. Please enjoy this new chapter!

* * *

" _God knows one day you will finally see that scars will heal but were meant to bleed."_

Hollywood Undead: "Believe"

* * *

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(The first time Anakin tried to meditate of his own volition did not go according to anyone's plans or expectations.)

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For Anakin, the day began relatively early and started off quite tame.

 _Obi-Wan is asleep on the couch_ , he thought with no small amount of surprised confusion as he carefully made his way around the living room and towards the kitchen in silence. Meandering around furniture in the dim morning light, his bare feet padded against the wood and carpet without a sound.

As he rummaged through the lower cabinet looking for cereal, he wondered with a type of nervous excitement what meditating (and being with the Force, yes!) would be like with the Jedi overseeing the proceedings. The Sith used meditation for insight and harnessing the Dark Side. While Anakin didn't exactly know why the Jedi meditated, he assumed it had more to do with personal accomplishment than a pursuit for power. But he, personally, just wanted the Force again and was wholly willing to accept sitting for an abnormally long time in order to feel the familiar cosmic energy.

Finding a colorful box decorated with a smiling non-Human character advertising the healthy quality of the ingredients, Anakin kicked the cupboard closed and reached over his head for a bowl. He poured himself a good amount of the flakes, choosing to forsake the domesticated milk in Obi-Wan's mini-refrigerator to eat the cereal plain. Anakin took his bowl over to the table, plopping down in a seat as he chewed on a handful of the food.

The silence of the apartment was a comfort – a sense of peacefulness at being alone but not necessarily lonely.

His blue eyes flicked down as he unashamedly studied Obi-Wan. Positioned at an awkward angle, the Jedi's limbs were tangled together like he was trying to squish himself up into a thin line, taking up only half of the couch that way. His neck was bent uncomfortably against the arm of the sofa, and the teenager winced in future sympathy.

Anakin shoved another palm-full of flakes into his mouth.

He wasn't sure what to make of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was a Jedi, one who seemed to respect with enthusiasm the religious traditions of his faith. Anakin's first impression of the redhead had been that of a model Jedi. Yet, twice the Human had chosen _him_ over the religious authority. He almost felt bad about making more trouble. But Anakin was selfish enough that he would always pick having the Force over Obi-Wan possibly being at odds with the Council.

Scooping another cup of cereal into his mouth, Anakin's gaze drifted to the window. The cactus and various species of flowers were just beginning to perk up from the sill, slanting their stems to catch the coming sunlight. He smiled at them.

Touching the ceramic of his bowl, catching the stragglers, Anakin turned his head to face Obi-Wan… who was awake and staring back at him, a confused look on his face as he rubbed his neck with a grimace.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan said, standing up as he covered a yawn.

"G'morning," Anakin echoed, watching the older man shuffle into the kitchen to make his breakfast.

About five minutes later, Obi-Wan dropped into the chair opposite to Anakin with a bowl of cereal – a different kind than the one Anakin found – that actually included milk. The Jedi had swallowed a few spoonfuls before Anakin started shifting noticeably in his seat.

Obi-Wan put his spoon down. He asked blandly, "Excited to meditate?"

Anakin missed the sarcasm, wrinkling his nose in response. "When can I get these off?"

He held his wrists up, the silver bracelets clinking against each other. Every time Anakin looked at them, festering hatred and anger bubbled beneath his skin. The Force-inhibitor cuffs were _awful_. He had thought he could handle it, but in the serene atmosphere of the apartment, a place where he was starting to feel _safe_ , the lack of the Force almost felt like it was physically hurting him. Before, the absence had been a punishment or a training tool. Now, with nothing for him to do and no reason for their adornment other than the Light users' fear, the chains were a reminder of his tainted status. How he was less than them – the dirty, Dark, slave boy.

"Soon," was all Obi-Wan said, finishing off his breakfast.

Anakin sighed, feeling a twist in his heart. He missed Padmé, even though it had only been two days. The end of the month couldn't come fast enough.

The Knight took Anakin's bowl and his own to the sink to clean, and the teenager mumbled out a polite 'thank you.' He remained seated, staring angrily at the inhibitors. A moment later, Obi-Wan was back to sitting at the table. He was holding out two hands, each offering a square of food, with an expectant expression.

Anakin brightened, sitting up straight. "Is there a difference?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "The one on your left is dark chocolate, more bitter," he explained, "and the other is milk chocolate and sweet."

He wasted no time in snagging the dark chocolate. "Thanks, Obi-Wan," he said, and it was probably the most happy, heartfelt words he had spoken in years.

He had never even heard of chocolate when he was on Tatooine. Most off-worlders rarely had such a luxury, and if they did, there was certainly no conversation about it in the bars or the shop. It was during his time with Dooku that he had seen it for the first time. Just another one of the many things that the Sith had exposed him to.

As Anakin delighted in the chalky, bitter flavor, his Jedi roommate went over to the couch and picked up a pile of folded clothes neatly stacked on top of the furniture's right arm. They weren't the beige of Obi-Wan's own outfit, darker in hue and seemingly an altogether different type of fabric. The deep blue tunic folded on the top spoke of comfortable and practical ease.

 _Is this... for me?_

"Yes," Obi-Wan answered, resting the clothes on the table before Anakin, "I brought in your old clothes to get measured earlier today and they had these available in your size."

"No black?" Anakin asked, his lips curling as he perused through the clothes, feeling warm and tingly inside.

He couldn't wait to give Obi-Wan back the stolen, light-tan clothes he was wearing now. His new outfit was amazing – there were no holes he had to sew shut, it was a comfortable (and _so_ soft) fabric, and the color was stunning. Though he would have preferred black, this outfit reminded him of a starry night on Tatooine. Mom and he would sit out on the sandstone and label constellations, laughing at their silly made-up names and designs, until it was well past midnight and far into the early morning.

Obi-Wan rubbed his beard thoughtfully, watching Anakin's smile soften into something both aching and joyful. "They had a black robe as well, but it needed to be hemmed. We can pick it up in a week."

Anakin pulled his eyes away from the new clothes to stare intently at Obi-Wan. "Thank you."

Obi-Wan nodded shortly, accepting the gratitude with poise. He continued speaking as Anakin started to shamelessly undress, throwing Obi-Wan's tunic over the back of his chair. "Yesterday, the prospect of your information exchange was brought up during the Council session."

There was a muffled noise of understanding as Anakin twisted and tried to pull the shirt fully over his head.

"They are still debating over what position would best fit you, so a Master will come by once they decide. It will probably be in a week or so, as well, I'd assume."

Anakin breathed out a light chuckle of success, smoothing down the shirt. Obi-Wan turned and walked into the kitchen, his back facing the teenager as Anakin, without pause, scooted out of his pants.

"Are you even listening, Anakin?"

"Mh-hmm. I get a job in a week."

Obi-Wan plucked a tea bag with strong a cinnamon flavor, busying himself with the kettle. "As for the information you have, it appears that the Council wants it in intervals. Once you start working, you are to meet with Master Yoda every day, or whenever you are called, to explain or reveal information."

"Who was Yoda?"

" _Master_ Yoda," Obi-Wan correctly automatically, missing the way Anakin's eyes flashed sharply at his back. "He is the small, green Jedi who speaks in an inversed sentence order."

Anakin grunted agreeably, saying, "I'm decent."

Obi-Wan sighed, turning to face the boy. "Do you want some tea?"

"No thanks."

So Obi-Wan waited for the water to boil as Anakin skipped off to the 'fresher. It was the only place that held a full-length mirror. When the Knight held his steaming tea in his hand and Anakin had finished admiring the new clothes, the Jedi motioned him forward to the center of the room.

Seamlessly folding himself into a sitting position on the carpet, Obi-Wan said, "You're welcome to find any place to meditate."

Anakin eyed the room, quickly deciding. "And these?" The metal dinged together with a dull sound.

Obi-Wan already held a small digital chip in his hands. From his belt, Anakin guessed, eying the tool and filing the information away in the corner of his mind. In a small arch, the Jedi waved the chip over the Force-inhibitors. Anakin's face was excited; Obi-Wan's face was anxious. As the locks disconnected noiselessly, they both waited.

Nothing.

Slowly, Anakin's eager grin fell. Obi-Wan immediately felt ashamed of the relief he felt, not knowing why this was increasingly looking to be a bad decision. Something just felt… off. Not wrong, per say, and it was not bad enough for Obi-Wan to change his mind, but there was _something_ just beyond his awareness.

Scowling, Anakin shuffled over to the couch and curled himself into a tight ball.

Obi-Wan frowned. "Anakin, stop sulking. While we wait for your body to adjust to the Force, I'm going to explain what we're going to do."

With a pout, the teenager shifted into a better position and began a heated mental rant as he listened half-heartedly to the Jedi.

"You're going to focus on your breathing. It'll be easier to deepen your connection with the Force and block outside noise if you start by counting the number of inhales and exhales at the start," Obi-Wan clarified, already closing his eyes and relaxing his body. "Once you feel comfortable and at the right stage, you're going to try to release your anger, hate, fear, _loss_ , into the Force."

…What? _No_. Why would he just let go of his emotions? Something that was innately _him_? There was nothing threatening him right now, he didn't need to refuse the Dark Side's lure or Dooku's will. There was no reason to dismiss the one thing he could always claim as his own when he was safe and _free_.

"You can't let your emotions control you, Anakin. The death of your mother was horrible, but you must celebrate her passing and honor her life. There is no death, there is the Force."

That was utter _poodoo_. Anakin gritted his teeth in disbelief and fury. There was certainly death. Since he had been young enough to understand, he had watched with wide, bright eyes as slaves tried to run away and failed, as masters accidently went too far and young, smiling faces bled to death with gasping gurgles, as his _mom_ —

—Red drops on the sand. No one helping. _I'm so proud of you; I love you, Ani._ And there was Dooku, contemptuous as the red of his lightsaber encompassed every curved detail in an ugly, bloody shine—

Suddenly, unexpectedly, everything went _snap_ and Anakin was freefalling in a sea of shadows. It was cold, and salty, and felt like water was getting in his mouth and up his nose. It was so hard to breathe, but it didn't matter because power was thrumming at his fingertips.

This is how Dooku will pay, it sang cheerfully, pointing spindly black fingers and laughing beautifully.

Yes, Anakin agreed, the anger and hatred splashing against his body in crashing, black waves. It was like the night had finally risen and everything that had failed before could finally be accomplished _now_.

"Anakin!"

A star way above sparkled nervously in Anakin's black night sky. It was alone and a dim, dying red color, pulsing against the suffocating darkness in panic.

"Ani?" an angel whispered.

" _Anakin_!"

A bright light rushed in from his right, purifying the water into a quickly evaporating steam. It had been so abrupt it _burned_. Then Anakin was alone in void whiteness, feeling vivid spikes of horror, fear—

—Nothing.

Anakin heaved in a mouthful of air, bolting up and tumbling onto the floor with glassy, unseeing eyes. The rigid hold on his shoulder felt heavy. Seconds passed as quick understanding seeped into his very soul. He stared dully down at the active inhibitor cuffs.

There was no way the entire Jedi Temple did not sense that implosion.

Obi-Wan looked dismayed, his eyes wide, still holding Anakin's shoulder in a tight clasp.

Anakin swallowed. It seemed all the accomplishments and safety he felt with the Human Jedi was to disappear. Knight Kenobi was a Jedi, through and through. Anakin wasn't going to get the Force back any time soon. No more chocolate or friendly, untainted smiles.

Neither person moved when the first loud knock beat against the door. When it only grew louder and more fervent, Obi-Wan robotically stood up and turned his back to Anakin. As soon as he was no longer frozen by the green-blue stare, Anakin bolted, flinging himself into his room as he leaned against the door and held in angry, self-deprecating sobs and the desire to throw something strongly at the wall.

He could hear Obi-Wan talking, the sound muted and tone reassuring, and the answering Jedi—loud, afraid, angry, confused.

The first time Anakin tried to meditate of his own volition did not go according to anyone's plans or expectations. And because it had been such a failure, Anakin did not expect to find himself and Obi-Wan facing each other on the floor in a meditating pose five days later.

.

(The second time Anakin tried to meditate of his own volition a significant understanding was reached.)

.

Apparently, Obi-Wan had been heavily shielding the both of them before they had begun meditation. Normally, the weighty walls the Jedi had erected around them would have been enough. But he had underestimated Anakin's power and potent connection to the Force. So the shadows had bled over, spilling into the Temple life's awareness.

Obi-Wan had explained calmly what happened to visiting Jedi. The truth, he told Anakin when he was asked, from a certain point of view. That the meditation had been affected by the environment, that the Force was just reacting. He let the Masters come to their own conclusion, masterfully utilizing his reputation to skew the assumptions more on a Force anomaly than an unshackled, Force-wielding Anakin.

Some bought it, and those that didn't only gave the model Jedi a raised eyebrow or skeptical glare. It was forgiven, but certainly not forgotten.

Obi-Wan and Anakin spent the following four days toeing around each other, eating together in silence and avoiding the other's gaze with a determined type of passion. It almost seemed like their thin routine was going to continue indefinitely, but that was until Anakin had another dream about his mom and woke up with fitful screams that woke the entire apartment.

So Obi-Wan forcibly shoved away his misgivings and decided to try again. This time, however, they were going in prepared. The two were blanketed by a deep shield, dulling outside awareness to the highest degree. They were facing each other, one meter apart, and ready to share meditation rather than have separate experiences.

And Obi-Wan was also forcing Anakin to describe the Dark Side.

"It feels cold and powerful, but also gentle and supportive," Anakin tried to explain, closing his eyes as he felt the memories. "The image I get always involves water."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, attentively mulling over what Anakin was continuing to say as he tried to align his perception of the Dark Side (and even the Sith) to the boy's personal experiences.

Little did either of them know the lasting importance of this conversation and their coming understanding of the Dark Side.

When Obi-Wan unlocked the bonds, he metaphysically led Anakin's Force presence in a different, Light direction, vaguely getting the sense of cold saltwater pooling around his ankles before they were both floating in colorful streams of sunshine.

Never before had Obi-Wan meditated like this, neither alone nor when he was a Padawan learner to Qui-Gon. The feeling was fiercely brilliant, both colorful and dense in energetic power.

"We're going to try and release our emotions, slowly and in steps," Obi-Wan said quietly, curbing Anakin's protests immediately. "Together."

"But—"

"I understand," Obi-Wan said softly as he felt Anakin's black and white essence in the Force. And he _did_ understand. "We're not dismissing your emotions. We're not rejecting them."

Anakin's signature vibrated with confusion. Obi-Wan chuckled.

"Your emotions of loss, fear, and anger—we aren't going to magic them away like they never existed. What we are going to do is place them in the air surrounding us. Place them in the Force, where we can see and respect them, but also not let them dictate our actions."

"I... don't know if I can."

Warm, loving light surrounded Anakin's Force presence. _Just try_ , it whispered amiably with unconditional acceptance.

With a hitching breath, the grief and love for his mom joined Obi-Wan's red and blue bands of heartache and hopes. The names Qui-Gon and Shmi danced together, twirling around them before dissolving into the Force and leaving only an impression in their wake. Not exactly gone, as Anakin had first thought, but simply less whole and in a shifting, more universal place.

Three hours later they simultaneously emerged from their trance. Anakin still did not completely welcome offering all his feelings into the Force; with enough concentration, the teenager could successfully release enough emotions so that he wouldn't be controlled or overcome by the loss or anger. Obi-Wan saw that as a huge accomplishment.

Anakin stretched and got up to treat himself to some dark chocolate.

Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed, simply listening to the boy unwrap the tinfoil from his position on the carpet. Before Anakin came over and offered the Knight his favorite – milk chocolate covered camby berries – he wondered over the creative and _powerful_ presence of the Force itself. The redhead knew without a shred of doubt: Anakin Skywalker was special.

The shared meditation and new-found understanding between them strengthened their relationship, and they moved around each other like reunited friends.

Anakin set about making dinner for the two of them without being asked (Obi-Wan trusted the teen when he explained that slavery had basically forced him to adequately learn the art). While he busied himself in the kitchen, singing along off-key to the popular music tracks on the holonet, Obi-Wan left to pick up the teen's hemmed black cloak.

The Jedi returned with Master Yoda and Windu in tow. When the Knight unlocked the door, the three Jedi were met with pleasant smells and high-pitched singing. Obi-Wan might have felt embarrassed if the sheer joy in the air didn't take priority. Yoda chuckled, whacking his stick against Obi-Wan's shin when he didn't immediately enter the room, and the two Humans followed after the short Jedi.

The Masters didn't stay for long. Obi-Wan took over the task of flipping the batter as per Anakin's strict instructions while the blond met the two Jedi by the couch. They talked and explained what his new job would entail, including when he would get a tour of the Temple and when training would start. Still with high spirits (that seemed to both please Yoda and make Windu suspicious), Anakin bid them farewell.

Obi-Wan set the plates while Anakin served the dustcrepes, a Tatooine bread that was easy and fast to make. The dry taste was not an issue, because Anakin discovered a large stack of soon-to-expire fruit hidden in the lower levels of the fridge that would add to the flavor. All in all, it was a good day.

"So what's your job?" Obi-Wan questioned after he finished his first serving. He reached over the bowl of fruit for another crepe.

Anakin unexpectedly scowled, stabbing a red berry with his fork. "A garbage collector."

Obi-Wan burst into surprised laughter and slowly Anakin joined him, shaking his head at the man.

They talked about what that would be like, discussing the benefits and how much the salary would be, especially taking into account his situation. A day ago, the teenager would have reacted in rage. The Jedi were once again pushing their prejudice on him, mocking and belittling his status as they placed themselves on an undeserved, high pedestal. Yet, it really didn't seem so bad now. While it _might_ be like his slave days, at least he could come back to the apartment and whine to Obi-Wan about his horrible taste in chocolate.

.

(The third time Anakin tried to meditate of his own volition it went perfectly.)

.

Ten days passed since the second meditation session. Anakin had been given a tour around the Temple and learned quite easily how to collect trash. He had to do most of his rounds every five hours for the classrooms but sometimes the garbage-shoots would malfunction, so he would come by with a fake smile and plastic bag. (Oh, how he itched to get his hands on some tools. He could fix that mechanical mess faster than anyone.)

Only once had Yoda called him over for information. It had been about the Separatists, and Anakin had tried his best to answer. He could explain the droids to the slimmest detail, but the politics always eluded him. Even though the green Jedi was welcoming and kind, Anakin was all too happy to leave the cold room in favor of bantering with Obi-Wan back at their apartment. Yoda just always made him nervous.

When Anakin finally pestered Obi-Wan enough for him to remove the Force-inhibitor cuffs and therefore, by default, begin meditation, the two sat back-to-back, leaning and balancing their weight evenly between each other. As they joined the Force together, everything seemed to fall in place. To keep up with the healthy habit, Obi-Wan instructed Anakin in releasing small pieces of strong emotions into the cosmic rivers. Yet with that done and with no desire to resurface, the two took to simply _being_.

They followed rainbow ribbons and braided strings of presence and life.

Throughout the entire meditation, this thought always remained: Obi-Wan could not achieve such imagery on his own.

As Anakin busied himself with watching a sunset-like burst of light rise above a blue ocean of sadness, Obi-Wan studied the teen's spiritual signature for the third time.

It was white but spotted with black, like a diseased pearl.

Once someone starts down the dark path, it would forever dominate his destiny. That was one of the more memorable quotes from Yoda's lectures. Staring at Anakin and comparing his words of the Dark Side, Obi-Wan was not so sure that the Sides were as absolute as everything had first appeared. Perhaps someone Falling could still be saved. It was a radical thought, slipping in without his permission, but not as outlandish as he might have first expected. Force knows, though, it would give Master Windu a heart attack.

An hour later, Anakin reemerged to the world of the living. He purposely bumped the back of head against Obi-Wan when he stretched and the Jedi grumbled.

"I want two pieces of milk chocolate, Anakin," Obi-Wan called over his shoulder as he rubbed his temple. Anakin shouted something unintelligible back that seemed like sassy compliance.

As they chewed on their chocolate and pondered about life, Anakin all of a sudden perked up, smiling cheek-to-cheek. "Padmé! She's back on Coruscant!"

Obi-Wan hummed curiously, barely listening to the teen's rambles, turning to fill a cup to water the plants. Then he stopped. He had already put the inhibitor bracelets back on Anakin. Obi-Wan could feel the hole where Anakin's familiar Force signature should be. So how…? Maybe it was wishful thinking, the boy missing the kind Senator.

The ringing from his comlink startled Obi-Wan. He answered it immediately, eyeing Anakin from the corner of his eye. "Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé greeted cheerfully. They could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm about five minutes from landing on Coruscant. I was thinking we should make plans to meet for lunch tomorrow."

"Ah, yes, that sounds good, Padmé," Obi-Wan stuttered. Anakin snickered obnoxiously and Obi-Wan silenced him with a glare.

"Fantastic! I'll see you at our usual place, then? Is noon alright?"

"Yes."

Padmé's tone turned teasing, "Don't forget to bring Anakin."

At that, the boy in question tilted his head and gave Obi-Wan the most pleased, proud look he could manage, practically preening.

They wished each other well, saying good-bye until lunch tomorrow. Obi-Wan turned off the comlink to the sound of Anakin cackling on the couch.

"Your face! You looked so… gobsmacked? Is that how I use that word?"

Obi-Wan stared at Anakin, barely noticing how he nodded in answer to the question.

There was something special about Anakin Skywalker. It was unlikely even Master Yoda would be able to sense the arrival of a non-Force-sensitive _without direct connection to the Force_. There had to be more to this mystery, and Obi-Wan was going to find out.

.

 _tbc_

.

 **Notes about this chapter** :

(1) It's my head-canon that Anakin _loves_ dark chocolate. I think he would like the 90% dark (get it?) chocolate ones (winkwink).

(2) Does it seem like Obi-Wan is not being a good Jedi for having such delicious/luxurious food? I secretly bet every Jedi has an emergency stack of chocolate (or the non-Human equivalent) stashed away in their pantries.

(3) At first I wanted Anakin to be a cook, but paranoid Jedi would think he'd poison them. Then I wanted him to be a mechanic. Same problem about potential sabotage. So I whined to my brother about my dilemma—and now garbage-collector!Anakin exists. You're welcome, world.

(4) I don't know anything about _SW Legends_ and am not really going to take it into consideration for this story. In my ignorant eyes, Vader was the first Sith to turn back to the Light, not Revan or the many others. So to the current Jedi, once you Fall it is the point of no return.

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Whenever I update this story I always feel like it's a boring chapter (every single time). Maybe that's because I'm constantly re-reading what I've written for mistakes, so the repetition lessens its original appeal for me? Or maybe it is actually boring? If it is, just let me know and I'll try to make my writing less dense.

Thank you for reading, lovelies!


	6. A Change in the Weather

**Summary** : AU. Anakin has been trained by Dooku since he was fifteen, but never really turned to the Dark Side. Dooku has enough of him and decides to execute him in the arena on Geonosis… The same day Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padmé Amidala are captured by Geonosians.

 **Author's Note** : I really appreciate ya'll taking the time to read and share your thoughts! I'm a sensitive soul, so the commentary and criticisms are like sunshine on an overcast day! I also apologize for the slow update—for some reason, I voluntarily tossed myself into some drama and was left unbalanced for way too long. Please enjoy this new chapter!

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" _Like a diamond in black dust, it's hard to know it can become, a few give up; […] everybody's got a dark side, do you love me, can you love mine?"_

Kelly Clarkson: "Dark Side"

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It started to rain when Anakin and Obi-Wan were eating breakfast the next morning. To Anakin, the sudden downpour had been wholly unexpected—it had been sunny almost five minutes ago and now water was racing down the windowpane and smacking the walls with an angry fervor. It was _amazing_ ; free and abundant water falling from the sky was like a gift from the gods. Did residents leave out buckets to collect the rain? Was this the same but purified water that he used in the sink and shower? In the back of his mind Anakin knew Coruscant was nothing like his desert home planet, but since he had not seen it rain once since he was here, surely this weather was a good thing.

So why was Obi-Wan looking disappointed?

"I was hoping they would have fixed the problem by now," the Jedi sighed. Obi-Wan got up to open the window, poking his head out. Almost immediately he closed the window again, ruffling his wet hair and dropping back down at the table with a slight frown.

"What do you mean? What problem?" Anakin swallowed a spoonful of cereal, looking past the potted plants to the grey outside.

"It was supposed to rain during the night," Obi-Wan explained, "but the Coruscant WeatherNet was having issues and suspected there might be a delayed response. I think it's going to rain well into the afternoon."

Anakin nodded, accepting the explanation as one of the many wonders of the rich planet. "And what does that mean for us?"

Obi-Wan's expression turned thoughtful. "I suppose it means nothing. We can still meet Padmé for lunch. We'll just have to leave expecting to get wet."

Rubbing at the cuffs absentmindedly, Anakin turned his attention back to the window. He didn't really understand—it would be a discomfort to wear wet clothes, but water always dried so fast it probably wouldn't even matter.

Anakin got up to clean his bowl and took Obi-Wan's plate before he could ask. As he washed the dishes, humming under his breath one of the heavy isotope songs on the holonet Anakin had spent three hours finding, Obi-Wan watered the flowers (but not the cactus, it was starting to get brown spots from over watering). It had become a habit between the both of them, where they switched off every other few day who cleaned the dishes and watered the plants.

Once Anakin finished, he toweled his hands dry and leaned against the counter. Obi-Wan had brought his datapad into the living room and was tapping the screen with a look of concentration. Probably Jedi business, then. Anakin nodded to himself, disappearing into his room to find his boots and cloak, and reappeared only moments later with the bundle in his hands.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin began, fiddling with the buckles on his shoe as he sat on the couch, "can we go shopping before we meet Padmé for lunch?"

Obi-Wan raised his head, staring curiously at the teenager. It was the first time Anakin had asked to leave the Temple since he had arrived on Coruscant more than half a month ago. "What would you shop for?"

"I need new shoes," he disclosed, glancing down at the scuffed up heel of his right boot. His left shoe wasn't faring any better, the leather covering the top having been ripped half-way off and dutifully picking up loose dust on the ground wherever he walked. Anakin lifted his eyes and smirked. "And you need a haircut."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and he answered flatly, "Thank you for your concern, Anakin, but I think I'll pass." A hand went up to rub his shoulder-length hair, though, when the teen looked away.

Anakin laughed, fondly shaking his head before turning his attention back to the shoes. "I had a dream about you last night where you had short hair. It looked kinda nice that length."

"I'm glad," was all he said, looking back to the screen propped up against his empty tea cup.

"It was really weird, actually," he continued, "I was a Jedi Knight and I think you were a Master. I can't really remember what happened, but there was this one part—" Anakin cut himself off, frowning in deliberation. "Never mind."

"I'm listening," Obi-Wan pointed out kindly without turning his head, beginning to tap buttons to a strange pattern.

"Oh." Anakin finished buckling the boots and took to unfolding his black cloak. "It was just very orange and fiery. I think you were yelling at me. I dunno, but I have had similar dreams like this one before."

Obi-Wan made a sound of interest. Anakin flopped down the length of the couch, covering his body with his robe like a blanket and propping his boots on the far arm of the couch. "I think I once dreamed about you and Padmé. When I saw the both of you on Geonosis it was like some freaky déjà vu because you looked really familiar. Weird, right?"

The Jedi set his datapad down on the table and turned his chair to face the couch. Though Anakin couldn't see it, his face was surprised and suspicious. "How often do get these kinds of dreams?"

"They're not really a _kind_ , are they? I mean, they're just normal dreams. I used to have reoccurring ones when I was kid about becoming a Jedi and going back to Tatooine to free all the slaves. Haven't dreamed about that since I was nine, though."

"What was the dream about with Padmé and me?"

Anakin shrugged dismissively. "I can't remember. It's been a while."

Obi-Wan murmured something under his breath that Anakin couldn't catch before the Knight turned back to the electronic screen. Anakin stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

As Anakin dozed in and out of sleep on the couch to the sound of rain, Obi-Wan typed up a report for the Council. After lunch, he resolved, he was going to check Anakin's medical file. A blood sample surely was taken when he had brought the boy in for his back wounds. Finishing his description of the most recent Republic occupied planet and the Senate's leanings towards or against the refugee involvement, the Jedi leaned back and stretched, his gaze slanting to the window.

It was still raining.

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his eyelids and swallowing a yawn.

"You alright?" Anakin asked, looking like he just awoken from a dip into sleep. His hair was curling wildly around his face with little tufts of spikes on the top. The boy needed a haircut, too.

Obi-Wan brought his fingers to his chin and smiled, releasing his emotions into the Force. His voice came out neutral. "Yes, of course."

"Alright," the teen said slowly, narrowing his eyes imperceptibly. "Can we go shopping now?"

The older Jedi nodded and went to get his robe as Anakin wrapped himself in his black cloak, snapping the hood over his head with a flourish. When Obi-Wan came back into the living room dressed to risk the downpour, he nearly froze on the spot. Anakin had positioned his robe so that the hood carved deep shadows over his face. Like an anomaly of nature, the gloomy glow from the window still lit up the boy's eyes so the blue shone through the darkness. It seemed like an ominous warning. Obi-Wan began regretting buying the cloak in black. The dark color was not going to do any wonders for other Jedi's perceptions of Anakin. How had he missed that?

"Don't wear your hood up in the Temple," Obi-Wan advised, walking over and tugging the cloth back down. "Especially if there are other Jedi around."

Anakin stared in bewilderment. "Why?"

"They'll get the wrong idea."

Anakin pursed his lips but seemed to let it go with an accepting shrug. He followed Obi-Wan out the door with the thought of wearing the hood up whenever he had to report to Windu or even Yoda. He grinned at the ground, and Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

* * *

…o0o…

* * *

Obi-Wan was not having fun. He was cold, and wet, and tired. "Anakin," he chastised for the tenth time in the past hour, "move along."

With a far too cheerful smile for the dim day, the nineteen-year-old thanked the shopkeeper and promised to come back to look at the new set of starship models as soon as he could. Stepping around long puddles, Anakin hurriedly positioned himself by Obi-Wan's side. "Sorry," he apologized with a sheepish grin. "It's just nice to be out of the Temple."

The Jedi frowned up at Anakin. "You're not trying to guilt me into something, are you?"

"Why, I would never," Anakin rebutted. He rested his right hand over his chest, the soggy robe making his fingers wet and cold. "Never."

"I thought so."

"Oh! Obi-Wan, over there!" He pulled the Jedi over to a small, professional-looking store at the end of the marketplace. The windows were advertising in poster-format all the best hairstyles, from intricate Nabooian to simple Chandrilan styles. Models of all kinds simpered and beckoned from the display screens. Anakin observed with his hands crossed over his chest, leaning forward on the balls of his feet, "The price is pretty good."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Please, Obi-Wan," he persuaded with a little, lopsided smile. "I'll get a trim and then buy my boots while you stay here, warm and _dry_ , and get your hair cut. It's a win-win."

If Obi-Wan wasn't feeling so tired and overworked he would have instantly said no. Just because the two were getting along did not mean Anakin's touch with the Dark Side and relation to the Sith was forgotten. The Jedi Council would never accept him leaving Skywalker unwatched in the busy marketplace of Coruscant. Luckily for Anakin's argument, the friendly tone of their relationship and the exhaustion with the war effort had Obi-Wan nodding his head as he allowed himself to be led into the store.

Anakin talked to the Ithorian haircutter as Obi-Wan relaxed in the blue light of the store, numb and tired. Lifting a palm for a motionless wave, the teenager left his friend with the sound of an electronic bell ringing as the door suctioned closed behind him.

It wasn't until Obi-Wan was staring at himself in the store's mirror with short, combed hair and no Anakin in sight that panic abruptly set in. He quickly paid the stylist and rushed outside, scrabbling for the Force to direct him to Anakin's spotty signature. A little to the left and—

"Obi-Wan, you look perfect! Why are you out in the rain, though?" Anakin questioned innocently, sidling up beside him with two bags clutched in his hands. "I bought the boots," he informed Obi-Wan with nod towards the larger bag on his left.

Anakin's smile dropped at Obi-Wan's aloof expression. "What's wrong?"

With a deep breath, the Jedi said tartly, "Don't leave my side again."

Taken aback at the heavy, _angry_ tone, Anakin nodded, eyeing him carefully. "Alright," he acquiesced.

It had been different when Anakin was inside the Temple, under Obi-Wan's guardianship. Taking off the Force-inhibitors had been okay because Obi-Wan was _there_. Out in the open, away from his eyes, Anakin could do anything and Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to interfere. Public independence was something he was not ready to allow for the teen just yet.

They walked together in silence, shifting around people and umbrellas. Despite the accidentally bad weather, there was still a good amount of people of many different species milling about the market. Customers would emerge from shops with handfuls of bags jutting into personal space, pedestrians single-mindedly following the flow of sentient traffic. When it looked as if Anakin and Obi-Wan might get separated for a moment by the crowds, Knight Kenobi would pull the teen behind him with a hand on his wrist, and they would continue like that until there was room to stand side-by-side.

Obi-Wan was busy looking cold and unhappy as they trekked along. Anakin would every other minute glance down into his second bag, biting the inside of his cheek.

Feeling like rocks were weighing him down, Anakin kept his chin lowered, refusing to look at his Jedi companion. The shadows from his hood stretched over his skin, darkening his pale color into a grey mask.

Obi-Wan was a good friend—but also a good Jedi. The dissonance between allowing Anakin his independence and keeping with the strict Council's orders seemed to pull the redheaded Human in opposite directions. One day they could be sharing chocolate and laughing, and the next moment the air would stale as Jedi business took over. It had happened a few times already that Anakin knew how to recognize an honestly disappointed Obi-Wan from a Jedi disappointed Knight Kenobi.

As much as Anakin was starting to value his friendship with Obi-Wan, the steadfast loyalty to the Jedi's commands and philosophies tainted the relationship. If Obi-Wan had to choose absolutely, Anakin wasn't sure which group he would pick. He couldn't even blame him, but that did not make the clenching in his gut feel any better.

Soon they stood before a diner, the outside red and rustic looking. The industrial area they were in looked to be in disrepair and unstable, the metal on the sides of buildings curving dangerously over pedestrians' heads. Anakin looked over his shoulder and noticed the broken signs and a screen on the ground that was starting to spark under the pelts of rainwater.

Obi-Wan wasted no time in getting out of the rain and Anakin was forced to follow quickly after him, frowning all the while.

"Where are we?" he said once they were inside, looking around at the establishment as he peeled off his hood.

There was a group of giggling Twi'leks in the closest booth to the door and other customers were conversing quietly at the bar or sitting on stools by the windows. Most of the conversations were in Basic, but Anakin picked up a few languages he commonly heard in the bars in Mos Espa by travelers and deep space pilots. A droid was wheeling around the people, informing them of their orders in a welcoming, robotic accent. Anakin stepped back to get out of its swerving path.

"Dex's Diner," Obi-Wan answered, glancing around and motioning for Anakin to follow.

"That's odd," he murmured to himself when they stood before an empty booth in the corner. Anakin looked questioningly over to him, so he clarified, "Padmé is normally here by now."

"Oh." Anakin frowned down at the ground. "How about we meet her at the Senate, then?"

"What makes you think she's still at the Senate?" The Knight wondered thoughtfully, watching him from the corner of his eyes.

Why _did_ he think that? It was entirely possible Padmé was simply running late and had already left to meet up with them. He was probably wrong. How would he know where she was? He had only met her for a few hours and they didn't actually know each other. It was improbable that she'd still be at the Senate building when even Obi-Wan didn't think so. As Anakin silently berated himself, Obi-Wan was watching the emotions flash through the teen's face like bursts of changing colors.

"Let's go the Senate," he suddenly offered, pulling his soaked hood back over his head.

"What?"

"I believe you, she's probably still at her office. Let's find out, yes?"

Anakin glared, frustrated, at the man's back as he pulled up his cloak, following after the Jedi. Why was Obi-Wan acting like this? First he was cold and Jedi-like. Now he was agreeing with Anakin's stupid idea? Was he trying to make a point? Anakin just didn't _understand_ and it was making his stomach twist uncomfortably and heart feel heavy. Anakin was tired of this drama, this back-and-forth between friendship and surveillance.

Anakin stopped walking.

"Obi-W—Knight Kenobi, we need to talk."

The Jedi turned around, perplexed. When Anakin didn't say anything, Obi-Wan walked over and rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Anakin, it's raining. How about we talk when we get to the Senate building, okay?" he proposed quietly. His face softened when Anakin didn't move. "I am sorry for how I acted, but there is a better place for this conversation."

Finally Anakin's feet unstuck from the concrete and they walked together to the curved Senate building. They arrived quickly since the market and diner were both near the Senate District and the throngs were getting easier to duck around since it was that time of day. The government building was a tall, dome-shaped structure, towering over the city like a rising sun. Its curved architecture was in direct contrast, in Anakin's opinion, to the sharp spires of the Jedi Temple that unapologetically stabbed the sky.

Smoothly going through the regulations and security measures, Obi-Wan wasted no time in shedding his dripping robe. Anakin winced when fat blobs of water darkened the floor.

"You wanted to talk?" Obi-Wan reminded him quietly, walking slowly in the direction of Padmé's office. Anakin fell into step beside him.

"Um, yes." Anakin twisted his fingers together, the two bags bunched together at his elbow by their handles. He sifted through his feelings, wondering how to approach the problem. He finally decided on: "Were you mad at me?"

"No," the Knight answered immediately. His mouth was open to say more but Anakin interrupted him.

" _Obi-Wan_ ," he stressed, crossing his arms. "Jedi feel emotions too."

"I wasn't mad at you," he repeated gently, green-blue eyes clear and compassionate, "I was afraid. For you and for myself. The Jedi Masters wouldn't have liked me leaving you to shop alone. I should have realized that, and I'm sorry I didn't. I took out my fear on you, so I apologize. It was unbecoming of me."

Anakin gazed considerately at Obi-Wan. So it _had_ been the discord between being his friend and being a Jedi under the Council's rule that had caused the cold outburst. Being right never felt so wrong. But what could he do? Anakin didn't want this to continue being such an issue.

Obi-Wan continued to talk, promising Anakin that if it happened again he would react in a calmer disposition and release the fear without delay. That was all well and good, but it seemed to only bend around the heart of the issue. Anakin puffed up his cheeks as he blew out air. There was no easy solution. All he could hope for was that the contrast between him and the Jedi lessened over time. Or that if Obi-Wan was forced into picking a side, he would choose the glow of friendship rather than the cold structure of tradition.

Before the two reached Padmé's office, a tan Human Senator intercepted them with a half-hug for the Jedi and polite nod towards Anakin. He started a hushed conversation with Obi-Wan about something to do with politics and the war. From Anakin's side, Obi-Wan rubbed his beard and listened intently to the soft words.

Anakin tried to listen, but the intricacies and current issues quickly eluded him. He made a mental note to start listening to the holonet recordings of the battles so he could get up to date about the happenings in the galaxy.

"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Senator Organa," the Jedi graciously said, his eyes falling to the ground in thought. He started speaking of the refugees and food supplies, losing Anakin even more.

Senator Organa began to say something in response, but Anakin's attention unexpectedly fell away an odd blink of full awareness. Like there was a tug around his center, Anakin smoothly detached himself from the two Humans. Neither Obi-Wan nor Organa noticed as Anakin walked past Senator Amidala's office. He kept to the wall of the hallway, as silent and unnoticeable as a shadow against a black background. Senators and aids walked by without moving an eye towards the teenager. Then Anakin found himself standing before a large, arching doorway. Curiously, he took a step forward.

The door _whooshed_ open and Anakin startled back a step, instinctively shifting his knees apart and hunching into a crouch. Padmé was talking heatedly to an elderly Human man with gentle eyes and a kind smile. They both blinked in surprise at Anakin's appearance.

"Oh." Anakin stumbled back further, straightening, the hairs on his neck standing on end. It felt like he was standing on a cliff surrounded by pure darkness, knowing there was a sharp, deadly drop a single step away but not in which direction. "Hello."

"Anakin!" Padmé greeted, her face softening before his eyes as she took in his blue outfit and large, fitted black robe. She bounded over, hugging him before leaning back, saying, "How did you find me?"

Anakin didn't have time to answer her question before the Human male interrupted with twinkling blue eyes, "My dear boy, you are a friend of Senator Amidala's? I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting."

He offered his hand out. The nails were clean and shiny, a perfect length, and the skin free from the blisters of hard labor. Anakin nervously shook his hand as Padmé stood to his right, rubbing her now-wet clothes with a good-natured laugh.

"I'm Palpatine," he introduced, his eyes crinkling cheerfully. "I was Senator Amidala's advisor when she was the Queen of Naboo before being elected Chancellor."

When Anakin tried to nod politely and not bite his lip in discomfort, the man prompted, "And what's your name, son?"

"Anakin Skywalker, sir." His mouth moved without his permission, mind frizzing in mild panic. Where was Obi-Wan? Why weren't they leaving already? If they didn't leave soon, Anakin was probably going to unintentionally start a war or something. This man was the _Chancellor_. Anakin was not prepared to talk with the head of the Republic right now, especially with his mind not cooperating like this.

"Nice to meet you, Anakin Skywalker," Palpatine said warmly, starting to walk with them into the hallway. He turned to Padmé and Anakin breathed out air he didn't know he'd been holding. "And Padmé, dear, please don't hesitate to contact me if you ever need me. And the offer stands for you, as well, young Skywalker. If you're a friend of Senator Amidala's, you're a friend of mine."

The two bid the Chancellor farewell, waiting until they could no longer hear the click of his polished shoes against the tile before turning to each other with contagious grins.

"Padmé!" Anakin greeted again. Without thinking, he grabbed her around the waist and spun her around, overcome with happiness and joy. She laughed as they twirled, and he set her down to the words, "I missed you."

"I missed you as well, Anakin," she admitted with bashful smile. Her tone turned more professional but remained friendly, "How are you getting along in the Temple? Is it alright rooming with Obi-Wan?"

"Yeah, it's wizard," Anakin told her, smiling. "Obi-Wan is really nice, though his taste in chocolate could use some work."

Padmé made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a laugh. As they walked to meet up with Obi-Wan, Padmé made certain Anakin updated her on all his goings, including his new job and the amount of spending credits incorporated in the salary. With a spring in his step, he told her about being able to (sort of) meditate the Jedi way and ensured her of the Jedi's good, if not welcoming, treatment. She seemed moderately satisfied, though there was gleam in her eye that informed Anakin words would be spoken when she saw a Council member.

They met up with Senator Organa and Obi-Wan, whom Padmé greeted with undiluted enjoyment. Obi-Wan glared at Anakin over Padmé's head, and the teen mouthed 'sorry' back with a half-shrug. The four spoke for a while longer before nodding goodbye to Organa as they headed back outside.

* * *

…o0o…

* * *

It had stopped raining sometime while they were in the domed Senate building. The sun was shining through the edges of puffy cumulus clouds in long rays, lighting up the pavement in rippling reflections of the surrounding colors. With the heat and light warming the air, the three allowed their walk to be more peaceful and ambling. They discussed their Jedi, Senator, and garbage-man duties, equally covering the prospects of each job with respectful understanding.

Getting comfortable in the corner booth in Dex's Diner, Anakin and Obi-Wan were laughing at Padmé's description of her family vacation on Naboo covering her nieces' shenanigans when the waiter droid scooted over to them. Obi-Wan and Padmé ordered without needing to look at the menu, but Anakin asked for the most exotic-sounding food he could, pointing to the name with his finger.

As Padmé complimented Obi-Wan on his haircut, Anakin set a petite, pink shopping bag in front of her. He folded his hands in his lap and waited for her to notice. It didn't take long.

"What's this?" Padmé asked Anakin, poking the bag with her smallest finger.

"A gift," Anakin said, "for you." He turned to his side and pulled out another tiny bag decorated in green stripes and set it before Obi-Wan. "And this is a gift for you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan and Padmé shared a look.

"I bought it when I replaced my boots today," he admitted, staring into his hands. He assured them, "You don't have to open it now."

"Oh, no, I want to see what you got me." She rolled up her long-sleeves to dig around the tissue-paper. Grabbing onto something, she pulled out a small, white box. With a curious smile, Padmé unlocked the clasp.

Tucked away in soft velvet was a set of earrings. Its base was smooth, rounded grey with bursts of rainbow colors. An opal gemstone. It was beyond lovely. Padmé stared at the way the stone glowed iridescent in the sunlight with an unmatched brilliance.

"Thank you, Anakin," she breathed, running her fingers over the jewelry.

Anakin beamed, memorizing how her brown eyes sparkled and the pretty, off-center curl of her lips. Padmé pulled out a compact mirror stashed away in her purse as she removed the long, wiry earrings she was wearing. When she finished, she brushed loose hairs out of her face, tucking them behind her ear and smiling broadly.

"So? What do you think?" She glanced into the mirror and nodded, satisfied. Anakin and Obi-Wan voiced their agreement, complimenting the color and shape. While the light base didn't match her darker dress, the colorful ribbons swirling around the gemstone complemented the different shades of her outfit. In an unconventional manner, it seemed to fit almost _despite_ the difference.

Obi-Wan opened his bag with a reminder that Anakin didn't need to buy him anything.

"I know that Jedi aren't supposed to have possessions," the blond said, sipping at a cup of ardees the waiter had finished setting in front of them. "But I was thinking you could put it in one of the flowerpots as a simple decoration."

Beneath the wrapping paper was a cut-open geode. The hollow innards were a beautiful, bright lavender with shards of whitish blue, grey, and lighter purple. Obi-Wan ran a finger over the outside stone's rough edges before flipping it over to the cave of quartz minerals.

Anakin revealed as he chewed on his plastic straw, "I got them at a shop that was five minutes from closing because the owner didn't want to continue business in the rain. Those two just called to me, I guess."

Both Obi-Wan and Padmé thanked Anakin again, and he smiled at them.

As time went on, the conversations shifted between the bad luck of the weather and other mundane topics before returning once again to politics. Obi-Wan was teasing Padmé about his personal stereotypes of politicians and she smacked his shoulder good-naturedly. Anakin had just finished his meal (it was delicious) when Padmé began discussing the squabbles and dead-ends of the Senate committees.

Anakin was frowning into his juice the entire time.

"I don't think the system works," Anakin informed her when she finished her story. He pursed his lips, thinking about how nothing ever seemed to get done. The politicians would talk from their nice podiums while people suffered, while species were _enslaved_ and then _ignored_ despite the laws of the Republic outlawing the cruel practice.

"How would you have it work?" Padmé wondered, leaning a hand on the table and tilting her head. There was genuine curiosity in her voice but also a thin hint of patronage.

"We need a system where politicians sit down and discuss the problem. Agree what's in the best interest of all the people and then _do it_." Anakin didn't understand how the gangsters like the Hutts were just allowed to continue their practice. Why didn't the Republic do anything to enforce their laws? Why didn't the Jedi assist them? Hutt space wasn't anything new.

Padmé frowned, relaxing into the back of the cushions with a hard look. "That's exactly what we do. The trouble is that people don't always agree."

"Well then they should be made to."

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, and Padmé's frown darkened. Anakin glared back.

What was the point in a government that accomplished _nothing_? People were dying, being tortured, _hurting_ while they talked and wasted time that could be spent helping. If they were made to agree, perhaps he could never have been a slave. Perhaps his mom could have been saved and _alive_ right now.

"By whom? Who's going to make them?" she confronted, shaking her head at him.

"I don't know. Someone."

"You?" Padmé asked rudely, narrowing her eyes.

Anakin scowled at her. "Of course not me. Someone wise."

"Sounds an awful lot like a dictatorship to me." She looked into her drink, absently playing with the earrings. Obi-Wan glanced between them, looking half amused and half worried.

"Well if it works," Anakin finished coolly, jutting out his jaw.

Padmé looked back at him, her eyes flicking over his face, studying him. Anakin stared back. After three seconds past like that, he almost wanted to make a joke about the entire conversation to disperse the tense atmosphere. He was about to smile and laugh it off when Obi-Wan caught his eye and said slowly, "But what's to stop this wise person from abusing his or her power?"

Padmé hummed in agreement. "One person with absolute control has no safeguards against corruption and a cruel rule. Even if the leader is wise there is nothing stopping the application of illegal activity."

Despite two people arguing against him, both of which had greater formal education, Anakin did not feel ganged up against. Perhaps it was the soft tone of Obi-Wan or the wondering, warm gaze of Padmé, but Anakin began to explain his position feeling like his opinion actually mattered, "If the person is wise that won't matter. This way things can get done. Slavery could be wiped out and people could he helped instead of time wasting away in discussions that go nowhere."

Obi-Wan made a sound of understanding, like something had clicked. In a way, he had solved a mystery. Anakin's past with slavery was something Padmé wasn't privy to, and it rationalized Anakin's perspective on absolute power.

"How about this, then," Obi-Wan began, lifting a hand towards the brunette Senator, "Padmé is your wise dictator and she decides to enforce a rule banning people from talking to another species because she thinks the races should be segregated in order to stop the mixing of cultures."

"Padmé wouldn't do that," Anakin interjected and then glanced worriedly at her.

She laughed, shaking her head. "No, I wouldn't do that."

"This hypothetical Padmé would, though. So what happens now? She has absolute control and people are being oppressed, even if she is considered to be wise."

Anakin shoved his tongue between his teeth, thinking. "I suppose… well, wouldn't the good from other actions outshine this bad law?"

"What if there are no good actions? What if the entire rule is repressive but still wise?" Padmé asked. "And even with moralistic responses amidst the wrong, those people being treated unfairly would not see the good."

"Oh." They were making good points about absolute control. A dictator could just as easily be like one of the slave masters that acted like Gardulla, cruel and intolerant, but with the entire galaxy as her enslaved subjects. Being wise wasn't as easy as Anakin had assumed. While Padmé would probably make a great monarch, there was no power in place to stop her from making unwise decisions. But… "What about the inaction? How is democracy better when nothing happens?"

Padmé and Obi-Wan exchanged a stare, wondering. "I suppose," she started slowly, "the Senate might need to be reformed to weed out the corruption that blocks healthy action. But just because someone disagrees does _not_ mean their opinion can be trampled upon. The process may be arduous, but that's how compromises are reached. How peaceful solutions can be met."

It wasn't the neat resolution Anakin wanted, but their arguments seemed to win him over with hesitant agreement. Power did not necessarily equate to good. It could be used by anyone, good or evil, but there was nothing to stop the bad in a dictatorship, unlike the systems in place in the Republic. In the end, they decided to agree to disagree. Anakin was mostly won over, but still couldn't find it in himself to wholly agree with the current (non)workings of the Senate.

An hour later they hugged goodbye as Padmé returned to the Senate and the two men headed towards the Temple. Walking through the wide doorway, Anakin's mind wandered as he remembered the meeting with the Chancellor. What would life be like if that man was the dictator? Would he be wise but corruptible? And what of the Jedi? Could their power stagnate into something wrong?

When Obi-Wan went to see the healers (he didn't say why, other than reassuring Anakin he was unharmed), Anakin was left to ruminate over democracies and dictatorships.

.

 _tbc_

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 **Notes about this chapter** :

(1) Padmé and Anakin just want to jump right into a close relationship, don't they? (Though it's not romantic yet.) For some reason, it's really hard for me to _not_ write it like that. Padmé is like the one person who is untainted with negative energy. I think that alone would allow him to drop his inhibitions, even if their relationship does appear sudden and underdeveloped right now. Please bear with me.

(2) Ardees - Jawa Juice.

(3) I had to include the conversation about governments because it always annoyed me how dismissive Padmé had been. Just because it's not democracy doesn't mean it is automatically evil. She needed to explain _why_ she considered dictatorships to be bad rather than just laugh it off. It didn't sound like a joke and wasn't one, and she's supposed to be smart enough to pick up on that in the movie. Poor Obi-Wan is stuck in the middle here, though. Oops.

.

Can I please ask a favor of you all? If you have the time/energy and are willing to review, can you be really critical of this chapter? Was Obi-Wan's quasi step back in their friendship unneeded drama or realistic/necessary for development? Is the fast Padmé/Anakin relationship off putting? Is the pace too slow and/or too fast? If you don't see anything wrong, please tell me that too!

I'm in that weird rut again where I worry about disappointing everyone, so what better way to feel better about it than to improve?

Thanks for reading! Really, thank you _so much_. I hope ya'll have a great weekend!


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